


The Yawning Grave

by Kahnah



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, FAHC, Female Jack, Found Family, Guns, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Platonic Soulmates, RageHappy, Romantic Soulmates, Smoking, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Trevor and Alfredo are also in there but not super main, me going for Mavin? It's more likely than you think, this happened bc of the clubbing scene in the last heist, which means people get a mark but don't actually die, you know the one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29564847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahnah/pseuds/Kahnah
Summary: In this world where everyone carries their soulmarks proudly, there are those who hide a different mark altogether: those who have cheated death. Those glitches of society, once discovered, are instantly taken into custody and executed by Grim Reapers.Unfortunately for Michael Jones, he carries both kinds of marksA soulmate FAHC AU with a bunch of found family thrown in there bc I am me and I am in desperate need of found family 24/7.Updates Fridays
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones
Comments: 18
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go!  
> This story idea hit me out of nowhere and will be sectioned into different parts that follow different people. We'll start with Michael!
> 
> Credit where credit is due. This story was inspired by this post:  
> https://kahnah23.tumblr.com/post/622648088447827968/lenyberry-unconventionalbrain

The Yawning Grave

Chapter 1

Michael I

Gavin slowly pulled himself through the vent. It was a tight fit and he had to be careful not to bang his lanky body against the metal. Noise traveled through such narrow spaces and he knew that he would alert everyone underneath him if he made the wrong move.

It wouldn't be the first time. A year ago he had found himself in a similar position and his glasses had slipped from his head and had clattered wonderfully down the vent.

The resulting tumult had nearly cost them the mission but he had learned, right? His glasses were safely tucked away in his shirt pocket.

"It's the next room."

Matt's voice reached him through the earpiece and Gavin nodded even though the other couldn't see him. Right now he was just a blinking dot on Matt's screen. He would like to mutter an affirmation but he didn't quite dare to twist enough to reach his earpiece.

Instead, he pulled himself forward, his eyes locked on the cover in front of him. The metal grid allowed some filtered light in this otherwise dark tunnel. He reached the edge of the cover with his fingertips and pulled until he could look through.

The room beneath was an office space. A single desk with a pc in the corner and a bunch of filing cabinets. There wasn't even a window. Gavin couldn't imagine how miserable it would be working in such a box. Then again Matt's own office wasn't much different but apparently, Matt preferred it like that, so maybe Gavin wasn't one to talk.

Most importantly, the room beneath him was empty. Even as Gavin waited, listening, he couldn't hear anyone. Fine, so maybe Matt had been right.

The cover of the vent wasn't bolted and Gavin pushed his fingers through the grid to hold it up. He lifted his other arm and brought his elbow down. It made a dull thud but nothing too loud. The cover popped out and he made sure it didn't hit the ground. Another lesson learned.

Pulling it into the vent he carefully placed it a couple of inches ahead and waited. Still no steps coming from beneath and finally he pushed his head through the hole. Hanging upside down, this little thing really did remind him of Matt's office with one glaring difference.

Matt usually didn't keep someone bound to a chair.

Gavin blinked at the figure in the corner of the room but the guy didn't react. He remained slumped over, only held up by the ropes binding him to the chair. Honestly, if his chest weren’t rising occasionally Gavin would have thought he was dead.

Well then.

Besides his unwanted guest, everything was quiet; but usually, prisoners didn't stay alone for long. Though it did look like whatever they had planned for this guy had already started.

Hanging upside down from the ceiling, Gavin couldn't see too many details but the guy had seen better days. There was blood on his face and his nose looked broken. It was too dark in the room to see more detail, but before he could debate pulling back or going through, the choice was made for him.

His sunglasses, safely tucked away in his shirt pocket, didn't like being upside down and clattered to the ground below. Well, he could hardly leave them here.

Gavin pulled himself back into the vent and crawled on until his legs could fit through the hole. He let himself down until he only held himself with his fingers before letting go.

It was a quiet movement, one he had practiced for years, and the guy in the corner didn't rise. Gavin kept a close eye on him as he picked his glasses up and put them back in his pocket.

"I'm in," he whispered into his earpiece.

His voice was enough to make his guest stir and Gavin came closer. He wasn't an amateur and he wasn't about to turn his back to anyone if he wasn't absolutely sure they were restricted properly.

The room was only lit by the light coming from the PC but it was enough to see the damage. Someone had kicked this guy's shit in and now up close, Gavin could smell the blood as well.

Considering this was one of Russo's bases, this stranger must have fucked up big time. He cracked one of his swollen eyes open, nothing more than a slit as he looked up at Gavin.

"Unfortunate meeting you like this, luv," Gavin found himself saying. He honestly hadn't expected any reaction to that, the guy looked pretty out of it, Boy, was he wrong. The stranger sat up in his chair as much as he could, his eyes wide. He was gagged so whatever he tried to say was nothing more than gibberish.

"I'm not here for you if that's what you’re worrying about," Gavin assured him. He took a step to the side and sure enough, the knots holding this guy back looked proper enough. "I would prefer it if you would keep calm while I do my business."

He turned away from him and focused on the PC in the room. Lifting his hand, he pushed the small button on the earpiece, "Hey, I have an unwanted guest in here."

"Do you need reinforcements?" Matt asked, but Gavin shook his head.

"Negative. We're getting along just fine, but keep an eye on the hallway. I wanna know when someone comes looking for him."

"Got it."

In the corner behind him, the guy caused a ruckus, and Gavin groaned. This was supposed to be an easy infiltration. Go in, find a PC, upload some nice spyware to Russo's system, and out again. Nobody was supposed to see him and he was supposed to see no one either.

"Listen," he told the bound guy as he moved the mouse to get rid of the screensaver. Wow, the PC wasn't even password protected. Where was the fun in that? "If you're a good boy and be quiet, I'll make sure to cut through those ropes before I leave. Got it?"

The guy groaned and when Gavin threw him a look, he looked pissed. Like it was Gavin's fault he was in this situation.

Too bad that it wasn't. 

Gavin inserted the USB and sat down during the upload to watch the stranger closer. He didn't recognize him. It was kinda hilarious to watch him struggle to get rid of his gag. Honestly, he nearly wanted to get up and help him, but there was the risk that this guy would just scream for help or something. Which wasn't likely but better safe than sorry.

The upload took less than a minute. Gavin pocketed his USB again and got up. The guy was now full out glaring at him and if looks could kill, he would be in for a nasty surprise. Checking on his watch, he wasn't really in a rush to get out of here. It wasn't like he needed to be anywhere else besides joining Jack for dinner later, so if he bothered this guy a bit longer, nobody would care.

"What did you do to get on Russo's bad side?" he asked, fully aware that the other couldn't answer. To his absolute delight, the stranger huffed agitated. It made drops of red fly from his nose and whatever he was spitting behind his gag, came out too muffled to recognize.

"Any chance you could be useful to me?"

The guy nodded wildly of course, why wouldn't he. By the looks of it, Gavin was his best bet getting out of here in one piece. If Russo just wanted to leave a message, he would've beaten this guy up and let him go. So either he wasn't done with him yet or just wanted to get rid of him.

"Do you know who I am?"

Another nod. Unfortunately, that was the wrong answer because Gavin wasn't fond of leaving behind witnesses. The Fake AH Crew hadn't outright declared war on Russo yet and if this guy told him about Gavin's little stunt here, that would escalate things.

Then again, if he shot mister bondage here, that would lead to more questions. Russo would be pretty surprised to find a corpse bound to a chair, when he had left this guy to stew for a bit.

Gavin pulled his gun but didn't yet aim it. No, the smooth gold surface just helped him calm down and he tapped the muzzle against his chin as he pondered. The part of him that had been around Geoff for too long, realized that wasn't a good idea. He could feel Geoff slap the firearm out of his hand, so Gavin let it sink.

"What to do?" he mumbled to himself.

The guy followed the gun closely before grunting something else out. When he realized that Gavin couldn't understand him, he tried once more to pull down the gag on his shoulder.

Fine. Gavin reached out to hear what the guy had to offer him when his earpiece clicked.

"Some movement coming your way," Matt told him and Gavin let his hand drop to his side.

"How close?"

"Coming down the corridor."

So not enough time to climb back up the vent. Thankfully there were enough hiding opportunities in this room.

"Play nice," he warned the bound guy before opening one of the cabinets around the room. Sure enough, there was more than enough space for him to press into and he let the door fall shut.

It was sticky and narrow and nearly pitch black. There was a small sliver between the doors that he could look out of and it showed just enough to see bound-guy throw a hissyfit.

It stopped when the door to the office was thrown open.

"Well, Jones! I got some good news, but mostly bad news."

Gavin recognized the voice instantly. It was Russo himself.

"The good news is, your buddy spilled! You don't have to tell me your intel anymore," Russo told the bound guy. There was a gun on his hip and his hand rested over it. "Which for you is unfortunately also bad news, because I don't need you anymore. So I hope you made your peace."

Well, that helped Gavin with his dilemma. He relaxed as much as was possible in his position while the bound guy - Jones - started to thrash around in a desperate attempt to free himself. If it hadn't worked while he was alone in this room, it didn't work now.

Russo seemed amused enough to leave him to it for a few seconds before pulling his gun. "Any last words that I should care about?"

He slipped a finger between the bloody and wet gag and the moment Jones' mouth was free, his eyes darted to the cabinet Gavin was hiding inside.

Oh, he better not rat him out now. He better not-

"For fuck’s sake!" Jones sputtered. Gavin's heart _dropped._

He didn't recognize his voice, but he recognized those words. The same words that had appeared on his upper right arm a couple of years ago and that now started to burn.

Oh, how they had amused him, leading to a bunch of speculation on how Gavin would hear them. But never had he imagined a situation like this.

"Not very eloquent," Russo commented. "Then again what did I expec-"

Russo's brain made a rushed acquaintance with the wall. Gavin was surprised by that as well. He had moved before he could think about it, his gun still raised as Russo's body hit the ground.

"Fuck," Jones blurted out. He didn't seem to notice the nasty stuff Gavin had just showered him in and instead took greedy breaths. Fair enough, considering how close he had just been on never doing that again.

Then his eyes found Gavin again.

"You're a fucking asshole!"

"Yeah, I can see why you would think that," Gavin admitted and slowly let his gun sink. So much for not starting an all out war right away.

"I mean, you could've said something."

"You don't think I tried?" Jones snapped at him, which okay, fair. Still, Gavin hadn't quite expected to find one of his soulmates today.

Oh, Geoff would be so pissed.

"Gavin," he introduced himself, which considering the circumstances was pretty lame after everything.

"Michael," the other snarled back. "And you better get me out of here bef-"

Michael stopped talking. In general, Michael’s everything stopped. His eyes wide, not even focusing on Gavin anymore, just staring out into the void. Even his breath fell silent. Deep inside Gavin recognized that he was watching someone die.

The horror creeping in his chest was ice cold, but it was already too late. The dark mark began to grow on Michael's forehead, right where a bullet would've hit him if it hadn't been for Gavin. The place where the bullet was supposed to kill him on the spot.

Michael slumped over, only held up by the rope still binding him to the chair, as still as could be. Gavin stared at him, waited for his chest to rise but knew it wouldn't. Not naturally.

Then a gasp shook through the body as Michael threw his head back.

"Fuck!"

Fuck indeed.

Geoff wouldn't only be pissed, oh no. Geoff would be outright livid.

"Hey Matt," Gavin muttered into his earpiece while Michael tried to catch his breath. "Can you get Geoff on?"

"Oh no, what did you do?"

"I fucked up," Gavin told him. "I fucked up big time."

The origin of the marks was too far in the past to truly remember. There were legends about it; the first true lovers that ever found each other, the old man who refused to pass on without seeing his daughter one last time, dozens more, all as sentimental as the other.

Fact was, whatever was in charge decided to play. And so they did.

The first mark was words pressed into their very skin. Everyone carried at least one of those, the first words your soulmate would say to you. Their appearance would be celebrated and memorized, a second birthday in some way.

It was all very cheerful; yet honestly, when Gavin bothered to think about it, it’d turn his stomach.

Behind this romanticized facade of true love and eternal happiness was the truth. The marks did connect one with another individual, but the name soulmate was as ill-fitting as could be.

The words pulled you to people that would influence your life in new ways. Often people would cling to that knowledge, would force the love they came to expect from such a kinship, turning a blind eye to the possibility that their soulmate might influence their life in negative ways as well. 

The love of your life could have the same impact as the inattentive driver who made sure you wouldn't be able to walk anymore. You could carry both of their words at the same time and it was up to you to decide who was who.

The result was unhappy marriages and abusive relationships. The result was people pushing themselves to love those they didn’t love. 

It was all a big mess.

Gavin had carried Geoff's soul mark since early childhood. Had met him before he could even read the words written on his arm. Thankfully Geoff hadn't been an abusive asshole who had seen him as his property for that fact alone.

Gavin was well aware that not all young children had the same luck, that those words could very well be a warning and not a blessing. Until now he had been lucky and neither of his soulmates had influenced his life in a negative way. He had never expected to be the dark shadow on someone else's life though.

It made sense that Michael had carried his mark. If Gavin hadn't shown up he would've died in that small office and the moment Gavin had heard the words that were written on his skin coming from Michael, he had known what to do.

He had changed Michael's life by saving it, even if that hadn't been his intention. All of that would be great and wonderful, destiny at work or whatever, if there hadn't been the second mark. Which had appeared right in the middle of Michael's forehead.

The second mark was as romanticized as the soul mark. Called the reaper's kiss. It was rarer than the written words, but not uncommon.

Humans died. A single, irrevocable fact.

Only that some of them didn't do it in the way they were supposed to.

It was carried by the boy who decided to wait for a red light instead of hurrying over the road, the man who left home early enough to not have to rush to work, or by the young woman who didn't have to spend the extra cash to take a taxi after her shift instead of taking the shortcut through the park late at night.

The reaper's kiss appeared on bodies that weren't mangled, on bones that weren't broken, and on stab wounds that weren't there.

People that had avoided death, most times without even trying.

Those who were breathing despite destiny wanting them to stop were taken by reapers. Beings that were able to take those that death itself had missed.

All in all society had accepted those with a reaper's kiss on their skin. Actually, many saw it as a gift, a chance to say goodbye to their loved ones before meeting a reaper. Their last day on earth, their unbirthday was often widely celebrated.

To hide the mark, to not turn themselves in was a crime so vile that it was unheard of.

And now the mark sat dark and obvious on Michael's forehead.

Michael, who leaned over a disgusting toilet and threw up violently. He wasn't quite sure where he was or how he got here; the splitting pain in his head didn't help. He had just followed Gavin out of the building, stumbling after his quiet steps while he waited for his skull to break apart or blood to come gushing from his forehead. Neither of those happened and whenever he reached up to touch the place, it felt hard and strangely scabby.

Now Gavin had brought him into some public toilet next to the highway and Michael was pretty sure there was nothing left in his stomach but here he was, catching his breath before hurling again.

When his stomach felt like a compact little ball and nothing more came out, he stepped out of the stall. He staggered towards the front of the bathroom where the lonely lightbulb flickered whenever a truck passed them by, which was most of the time.

Gavin was sitting on the counter, next to the sink and his bleached hair looked golden in the little light they had. When he noticed Michael, he started to rummage through his bag. It was a Gucci bag of all things; one of those ugly beige ones, but someone had written FAKE on it in what looked like pink sharpie. From over here Michael couldn't tell if it had been Gavin himself or if it was meant to be like that.

Then again that was the least of his problems.

"Here." Gavin produced a bottle of water and handed it to him. "Probably better than whatever comes out of the faucet."

Michael threw one look at the dirty sink and had to agree. Then he watched Gavin sit back right in a mysterious light blue spot that was hopefully leftover soap. Considering the soap dispenser was empty except for dust he probably wasn't so lucky.

"Thanks," Michael said as he cracked the bottle open. "You always do missions with a little school bag packed?"

Gavin shrugged. Something heavy rumbled over the road, leaving both of them in darkness for several seconds. Good, because then Michael could avoid looking into the mirror for a while longer. He rinsed his mouth before spitting out.

"You also have a snack in there?"

"You hungry?" The light came back on just in time for Gavin to pull a granola bar from his bag. A note was attached to it and Gavin pulled a face.

It said _'Don't fuck this up!'._

So much for that.

"Did your mom pack your bag?" Michael couldn't help but ask.

"No, that was Geoff."

"Ramsey?"

"Yeah."

"Jesus Christ."

Michael knew about Ramsey and his crew. He had recognized Gavin as the Golden Boy, part of the Fake AH Crew, but he hadn't thought the most infamous crew of the city packed each other's lunch.

Gavin offered him the granola bar but Michael shook his head. He knew it would just come back out the moment he started to think about his... predicament. Turning towards the mirror, he kinda hoped the cracks and caked dirt would hide his face but no such luck. No, the dark mark sat right on his forehead, a perfect little circle.

Reaching up, he let his fingers wander over it again. It still felt strange, the skin not giving where it was dark and a little bit like a scab. He dug his fingernails in, like he could just pick it off but it didn't work. The skin had turned too hard to be bothered by his nails and the edges were smooth.

No way to just rip it off.

"Sorry about... that," Gavin said lamely.

"I mean, you weren't the one who shot me," Michael said before laughing. "Technically nobody did."

Nobody had but he was still dead. Taking a deep breath, he finally addressed the most disturbing part. His heart ... his heart had stopped.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d paid attention to his heartbeat, but the second it had stopped he had known. His chest felt hollow and when he pressed his hand against it, he couldn't help but wait for the all too familiar thump. It didn't come and a part of him wanted to scream.

His stomach made a valiant effort to throw up again but there was nothing left.

He was dead, he had died roughly an hour ago.

Fuck.

Reaching into his pockets, they were mostly empty. Of course, Russo had taken most of his valuables when he had managed to snatch Michael, so his phone was probably toast. Well, at least Russo was as well. A nice, clean shot through his head. Just like Michael's own death should've been, which was kinda ironic.

At least he found a pack of cigarettes and pulled it out.

"They won't make a difference now," he said as if he had to convince Gavin of that.

"Not really," Gavin agreed and took one of the offered cigarettes. "Looks like you've already started to heal."

Right. Considering that Michael had been beaten up not too long ago, he felt pretty good. There was still blood crusting his face but his ribs didn't feel like they were broken anymore.

"Funny how the body can do that after you died."

"Because you're a glitch now."

"Yeah."

They smoked for a while, filling the place with their silence. It didn't do much in calming Michael down and he pulled a second cigarette out before his first was done.

A trucker stepped in, throwing them a glance and stopping in his motions when he noticed the mark on Michael's forehead. He awkwardly nodded at him, some form of both acknowledgment and condolence before he went to go take a piss. When he was done he left again, not even washing his hands. Gavin pulled a horrible grimace at that. 

He was playing with his sunglasses. They were aviators with a golden frame and he nervously thumbed over a damaged part of the rim. 

"Didn't know Porsche made glasses."

"Do they?" Gavin looked down and seemed surprised when he noticed the engraved name on the leg of the glasses. "Look at that, I guess they do."

"What? You just chose them because you like the look of them?"

"They were a present but I let them fall," Gavin told him and dug into the damaged edge. The gold color began to flake and with a sigh, he dropped the glasses into the overflowing trash can.

"So what now?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

Michael looked in the mirror and barely recognized himself. All he could see was that damn dark spot and he wanted to scratch at it again. Honestly, if Gavin wasn't staring at him, he would probably break the fuck down or... something. Honestly, he had no idea what to do.

"You know where the closest institute is?" he asked instead because that's what he was supposed to do. Go and report his mark and let the reaper take care of him. That was their job after all.

Gavin looked quite alarmed by that but instead of protesting he bit down on his bottom lip. He dug his phone out of his pockets.

"I can look it up but... but do you really want to go now?"

"I should."

"You don't have to right away," Gavin reminded him and held two fingers up. "You get 48 hours after the mark appears, right? Your deadline is only in two days."

“Deadline,” Michael muttered under his breath and had to bite down a hysterical laugh.

Two days to say goodbye and take care of his affairs. The thought had already come to him but it wasn't like he needed it. He could call his job, make sure they were informed. Some of his coworkers would like to know but besides that-

"We just met," Gavin pushed on. "I would like to get to know my soulmate better."

"No offense but both of us know that this mark means nothing. I would even say this meeting wasn't a lucky one."

Gavin pulled a face and Michael felt a little bad. Gavin slipped from the counter and threw his bag over his shoulder.

"My ride's here in five," he said. "You know who I am, Michael, and you know I have connections. It's your choice how you want to spend your remaining two days. but this is an offer."

Gavin left through the door and for a moment the sun even reached this filthy place. In the bright beams, Gavin's golden hair shone like a little star. The maybe-soap had left not only an undignified stain on his bag but also his ass. Then the door fell shut.

Michael watched it for a while but he didn't expect Gavin to return. Honestly, Gavin was right. He could go back home, wallow in self-pity and look up the next institute himself. There wasn't much to do otherwise, no connections he had here in Los Santos that really mattered.

Or he could roll with the Fakes for a while. What did he have to lose?

Outside he was greeted by the sun that tried its hardest to fight through the smog hanging over the city. Gavin was still there, leaning against the wall as he occupied himself with his phone. When he noticed Michael, he looked up and grinned.

"Good choice, luv."

The sportscar picking them up was so yellow that it hurt to look at. Not that this little fact would stop Michael from staring because that was a damn nice car.

The feeling of dread came a second later. It poured out from the car like a dark fog and if Michael's heart could still beat, it would have raced. His fight or flight reflex was still there. Usually it went for punching things, it was vehement about running right now.

Michael took a step back, away from the car before he could stop himself and couldn't even quite tell why. Gavin noticed and his eyes grew big.

"Ah shit, sorry. Should've warned you." The window of the car was rolled down and Michael had to fight against another impulse to flee.

"But don't worry! Fiona works for the Fakes!"

The woman inside the car leaned over to look at them and couldn't quite hide her grin. "Yo Gav! Geoff told me you fucked up again!"

"Yeah, well..."

Michael barely noticed. He stared at the woman and her styled hair, the tips nearly as golden as Gavin's own. She didn't look dangerous but his body still wanted to flee.

_Reaper_

He had never met a reaper before but he knew it instinctively. This person had the ability to kill those death had forgotten. People like him.

Fuck, he hadn't expected them to terrify him, but everything in him screamed to run, run, run-

Behind her glasses, Fiona’s eyes found him and Michael's breath slowed. His nerves settled down; part of him realized that he was being calmed, that it was nature's way of leading those dead towards reapers. There was nothing he could do against it.

Also, Gavin had told him that it was fine, right?

"You guys gonna get in?" Fiona asked and Michael moved without any doubt. He dropped into the back seat and closed the door.

Fiona had already turned around to watch him, eyes curious but not unkind.

"Sucks about the mark," she told him and Michael had to bite back a laugh.

"Thanks."

"That's Michael," Gavin introduced him. "He's my soulmate."

"No way!" Fiona grinned at him, all the excitement in the world radiating from her. "He's the 'for fuck's sake' guy? That’s crazy!"

Gavin pulled his sleeve up to reveal his upper arm. There was no mark there but Michael figured that was where his words had been.

"Well, look at that! How do you always get soulmates that are out of your league?" Fiona asked. "I'm Fiona by the way. Another one of Gavin's soulmates."

She offered her hand and even though that first feeling of dread had left him, he didn't dare to take it. She could take his life, she was born for that exact reason. Death itself had fucked up or whatever.

Considering that he had just asked Gavin for the address of the nearest institute, he was suddenly very aware that he didn't want to die yet.

"Don't worry, it doesn't work like that," Fiona told him good-naturedly. "Also I won't take you unless you want me to, I'm not an asshole."

"Alright." He didn't like how weak the word came out but who could blame him? His day had really been shitty.

"Nice to meet you, Michael. Sorry that your soulmate is such a letdown, I feel you."

Laughing, he took Fiona's hand and it didn't feel any different to another human. If he hadn't felt it in his soul, he might have been fooled.

"I'm trying to make the best out of it," Michael told her. "Doesn't look like it will stay like this for long though."

Fiona threw him a knowing look before shoving at Gavin's shoulder when he tried to protest.

"I already like him," she said when she turned back around. "Let's get you guys out of here."


	2. Michael II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I died.
> 
> Michael startled awake. Outside the sky had turned dark and the city was awash in artificial light. He must have fallen asleep and now he woke up with such a panic, that he could barely breathe.
> 
> I died.
> 
> I'm dead.
> 
> I was shot in the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by that scene in the last heist. You know the one.

Chapter 2

Michael II

"Is this the base?" Michael asked as he only sort of looked around. Fiona had thrown them out in the middle of downtown and Michael was hard pressed not to lose Gavin in the crowd. Then again, he also had been keeping his head down.

Los Santos was busy, but marks were a different case. Especially in such a prominent place as his.

"Oh, no way." Gavin made it look easy to press between other bodies like they weren't even there. With his gaze lowered, Michael had to orientate himself on that damn spot on his ass so as to not lose him.

"This is merely more than... let's say a small hideout."

A safe house then. Made sense. Considering where they were right now, Michael could only imagine how the rent was.

Gavin stopped at the street corner and turned towards him. Great, now Michael was staring at his crotch. Gavin gave a small laugh before offering his hand.

"Let's get you out of the street."

Michael took it and let himself be pulled. He knew vaguely where they were right now but Gavin led him to a building he had never paid attention to. There was a small convenience store on the first floor but Gavin took him to a door at the side.

Out of the crowd, Michael dared to lift his head again. There wasn't much to see here, a tiny room whose only purpose was to lead to an elevator. Pushing the button, they waited and Gavin didn't let go of his hand. Honestly, Michael was glad for that. Feeling the warmth of skin against his, feeling another human got rid of the dreamlike feeling in his chest. Like all of this wasn't real, like he would just wake up soon and nothing had happened.

He wasn't dead.

But then he remembered the emptiness in his chest and his shoulders slumped.

The elevator arrived with a ding and they got inside. There were mirrors inside and if he needed any other reminder it was right there. Dark on his forehead and his free hand couldn't help but pinch at it as if it was an annoying pimple. It didn't help.

He looked like shit, with or without the Reaper's kiss. The dried blood on his face looked dark against his skin but was mostly dried. Thinking about it, his nose had stopped hurting and when he traced the seam of his lips with his tongue, it didn't feel split anymore.

Gavin had talked about the unnatural healing once you were doomed but it was something else to see it for himself.

They entered an apartment that was surprisingly bare. It looked like something out of a catalog, minimalistic but drenched in light. Then again this was just a safe house, so Michael wasn't sure what he should expect.

"We can stay here for a while," Gavin told him. He had opened the door with his phone and was now putting it back in his pocket. "It's not needed right now, so please feel at home." They walked past the main room and further into the apartment. "You can choose one of those rooms, they each have a bathroom if you want to take a shower. I'll see if I can find some clothes that fit you."

"Okay." But he didn't move, just stared down the hallway with its three doors. Thanks to the big windows in the main room, he could see Gavin's shadow right next to him.

"Thanks," Michael told him even though he wasn't quite sure why.

"No need to thank me. I kinda got you into this mess."

"Still-"

Still, it was good to not be alone in it. Gavin wasn't his friend, Gavin was little more than a stranger and they had only interacted because of the words on their skin, but Gavin had gotten him out of there.

Michael had a hard time even remembering what exactly had happened between Russo collapsing and the public washroom. Just Gavin's insistent pulls on his arm and the fundamental wrongness of his missing heartbeat.

Yeah, Gavin might've dumped him into this mess but he had also gotten him out of it. On top of that, Michael couldn't really blame him because neither of them had known what would've happened.

"Wash up," Gavin told him. "Rest for a while. Then we'll see."

Washing the blood and sweat from his skin felt amazing. Yet the dreamlike feeling had returned. Russo had roughed him up pretty bad, he hadn't seen the bruises but had felt them. Fuck, he had been pretty sure his ribs were at least cracked and his nose had for sure been broken.

Now there were darker patches and while his ribs felt tender, they didn't hurt. Gavin's words were gone.

They had snaked down his calf, bright against his pale skin.

_ "Unfortunate meeting you like this, luv." _

Michael had felt them disappear, had understood what they meant but he hadn't been able to answer with the gag in his mouth. Those had been some frustrating minutes, having his soulmate right in front of his nose without being able to tell them. But things had worked out, somehow. In a very weird way.

When he stepped out of the shower, he was fascinated by his mirror image. With the blood gone he looked like he hadn't been in any trouble at all. Besides his forehead of course and again he reached up.

The mark wasn't bothered with it and no matter how much he scrubbed, nothing changed.

A dream.

Only that it wasn't, he had died. He should've died and some part of him realized he was in shock. That he couldn't work through this because he was in a situation he wasn't supposed to be in.

There was a bundle of clothes waiting in the room beyond but for now Michael ignored it. He let himself drop onto the bed and fished his pack of cigarettes out of his jeans. Lighting one, he looked out of the window.

The city was buzzing as always and that wouldn't stop, even if Michael died. Nothing could get it to stop and nobody inside would miss him. He hadn't been here long enough for that. Even if; he had known coming to Los Santos might as well mean his death. Though, he hadn't thought it would happen this quickly.

He finished his cigarette and laid down. The words on his leg had disappeared but there was still one phrase left. He let his fingers travel over them, didn't have to look down at his stomach to read them.

_ "You must be Michael." _

It could fill him with hope, a hint that there was more after what had happened but he pushed it back down. It was the words of a reaper most likely.

When he closed his eyes, he could imagine it. The small office space he would be asked inside, a bed for him to lay on and this woman behind the desk. In his head, it was Fiona even though he knew Fiona most likely didn't work in any kind of institute but she was the only reaper he had ever met. She was offering her hand like before, a polite smile on her face.

_ "You must be Michael." _

A short conversation before he would be asked to lay down and then she would take him. She would take his life that death had somehow missed and that would be it.

_ "You must be Michael." _

_ I died. _

Michael startled awake. Outside the sky had turned dark and the city was awash in artificial light. He must have fallen asleep and now he woke up with such a panic, that he could barely breathe.

_ I died. _

_ I'm dead. _

_ I was shot in the head. _

His hand darted up to feel the strange texture of the mark again but before he could, horror rolled through him.

_ I don't have a heartbeat. _

It wasn't there and without it, the room seemed impossibly quiet. His heart should pound, it should be in his throat because of what happened but instead, it lay still in his chest.

The air tasted like stale smoke and still, he gulped it down, took deep breaths like it would jumpstart his heart again. It didn't, nothing would and that knowledge was nearly too heavy to bear.

Gavin was waiting for him when he finally stepped out of the room. It was night now and it had taken Michael entirely too long to find the strength to get dressed and face whatever would happen next. The clothes were too tight and he had a suspicion that they were Gavin's own.

"Took a nap?" Gavin asked. He was sprawled on the couch, hanging halfway off it because the charging cable of his phone was too short to sit comfortably.

"Didn't mean to," Michael admitted. His own voice sounded distant to himself and Gavin's eyes darted towards him. Of course, Ramsey's Golden Boy noticed any form of weakness instantly.

Well, Michael was full of it today.

"You clean up nicely," Gavin just mentioned before pulling his phone off.

He had also showered and dressed by the looks of it. The dark clothes from before might have been perfect to infiltrate Russo's base but now he looked more like Michael had seen on the news. Golden jewelry and tight jeans and a silky shirt that was so far unbuttoned that Michael wondered what even the point in wearing one was.

"Can't say the same for you," Michael muttered.

"Rude!" Gavin stood from the couch and wandered over to the kitchen area. On the counter stood a bottle of liquor and Gavin hopped right up next to it.

"So what now, Michael Jones? What's our next action?"

Should he be surprised that Gavin found out his full name? Probably not, the Fakes had enough resources to figure that much out.

"You know I have connections," Gavin went on as he poured a shot. "Say what you want and I'll make it happen. Soulmates even get a special discount for that service."

Michael stepped up to him and Gavin watched him like a hawk. When Michael stole the glass out of his hands, he didn't protest but his grin widened.

"I don't want to think anymore," Michael said before downing the shot. The alcohol burned pleasantly down his throat. "Can you do that?"

Gavin slipped from the counter and crowded into his space.

"I was hoping you’d say something like that, Michael."

Gavin was wearing golden eyeshadow when he leaned in.

"But first you must wear this."

_ This  _ was a beanie. Dark with a bright green star on it because of course. Gavin pulled it over his head and then pulled on his hair until it covered the mark.

"Now it's gone," Gavin told him and Michael allowed himself to believe that lie.

Gavin brought him to a nightclub close by. It had to be a popular one, judging by the long line they walked past. Honestly, it was a pretty surreal feeling but Michael wouldn't protest, not when Gavin led him like this was the most normal thing in the world.

They were let in, no questions asked and Gavin hooked a finger into his belt loop like he was scared of losing him.

Inside it was dark enough to see no more than a few feet and only the bright flashes of light let him see the silhouettes of bodies, pressed together tightly. The music was so loud that Michael could feel it in his teeth, could feel it droning in his bones and Gavin was right. It was impossible to think in here, and the beat nearly made him believe it was coming from his own empty chest.

Compared to the outside the inside was stifling, though neither mentioned it. You didn't go to a club to be comfortable and he was well aware of that when Gavin pulled him through a sea of swaying, sweaty bodies.

They made it to the bar and the second the barkeeper recognized Gavin, he gave a sign. The bouncers made sure that a corner of the bar was cleared for them, pushing the attendees away without much care. Gavin leaned against it, holding two fingers up, and just like that the barkeeper was working away.

Michael had no idea what Gavin had ordered but he honestly didn't care either. He slotted into place behind Gavin like he had to shield him. There was more than enough space for them now and even though the bouncers had disappeared again, nobody dared to come closer. Also, Gavin was still holding on to his belt loop and only let go when he was happy with Michael's position.

"You come here often?" Michael asked needlessly.

"This is my spot," Gavin told him. "I can overlook the crowd and the lighting suits me best."

There was little light at the bar, just enough to allow the people to properly work but Michael couldn't deny that it was enough to make the gold on Gavin's body sparkle.

"As expected by Ramsey's precious."

"Geoff takes care of his own. Especially his soulmate."

"So what, he's like your sugar daddy?"

For the first time, something like annoyance flashed over Gavin's face and honestly, Michael was a little taken aback. It was only there for a fraction of a second but he really didn't want to step on any toes, especially ones of the Fakes.

"People tend to say so," Gavin finally muttered.

Michael was saved from thinking up a reply by the shots placed in front of them. Without even looking at them, Gavin took one and downed it. Instantly the little tension that had crept into the situation dispersed and when Gavin held a glass out for him, Michael didn't hesitate to take it straight from his hand.

Whatever was inside was strong and probably cost more than Michael could normally afford. It burned but in a smooth way that no cheap liquor could recreate.

He could barely process it before Gavin held a second glass to his lips, his eyes challenging him and so Michael let him pour the shot in his mouth. All in all Gavin seemed quite pleased with that.

"So what now, Michael Jones?" Gavin asked. His voice carried over the bass. He had turned around, leaning his back against the bar and Michael had basically boxed him in now. Not that he believed he would be in that situation if Gavin hadn't decided on it.

"This is one of Ramsey's establishments and you're here with me so I can offer you whatever pleasure you yearn for. Drugs? Girls? More liquor? What will it be?"

"Everything I want?"

"Whatever your heart desires."

A single gold chain was hanging around Gavin's neck, heavy enough to keep his mostly unbuttoned shirt in place. Michael wrapped it around his finger and pulled.

Not even the shadows could hide the grin stretching across Gavin’s face.

"That was the right decision, Michael Jones."

He pushed him back, away from the bar and into the crowd. His fingers hooked into his belt loop like it was second nature and Michael didn't even think about stopping him. He followed Gavin into the anonymity of too many strangers just like he had followed him past a dead body today. Colorful lights showed them the way only seconds at a time. A hot pink that hurt his eyes and such a deep green that Michael was sure it was especially here to alert everyone that a member of the Fakes had entered the club.

Gavin stopped somewhere in the middle of the dance floor and pulled Michael flush. He was grinning, something dangerous and sharp in the way his teeth glowed in the light, then he was too close to properly see, pressed to Michael's front. His hands carded roughly through Michael's hair, tugging until it was just the right kind of pain, and Michael would gladly indulge but he could feel the beanie slip from his head. It landed somewhere between the swaying bodies, lost forever and his arm darted up to cover his mark but Gavin caught it in time.

"Don't think," he said, leaning in to speak into his ear over the thundering bass. "Keep your eyes on me."

That was easy, especially when Gavin followed it up with a roll of his hips against him. Instead of trying to cover his mark, Michael's hand darted down to keep him close.

Gavin's laugh rang over the pounding music, bell-like and otherworldly.

He tugged on his hair once more, angling Michael's head until it pressed into his neck and Michael wasted no time. He was hit with a waft of cologne, a welcome distraction against the stifling air inside the club as Michael pressed open-mouthed kisses against the column of his throat. The taste was salty as he began to worry on Gavin's skin and by the way the hand in his hair tightened, Gavin was looking for some marks. Michael was sure to deliver.

His day had turned for the worst but Gavin was right, inside this club that didn't matter. Nobody knew, nobody could hear them, and nobody could see. Here he was just like he had been this morning after waking up. Just someone, trying to make a living in this city.

Only that he for sure hadn't expected someone grinding their hips into his when he woke up. Especially one of the most powerful men in this city.

Funny how life was sometimes.

Gavin pulled him off eventually, a pretty chain of dark spots wandering down his throat. His lips brushed against Michael's for a moment, a fleeting touch that he tried to follow but then Gavin had already turned around in his arms. Even though it was impossible to hear over the music and the bass droning in his bones, he knew that Gavin was laughing, bright and breathless.

Michael still held on to his hips, kept them swinging but now Gavin picked one of his hands and pushed it higher. Oh, how had he ever complained over the missing buttons when it was so easy to slip into his shirt and find skin. Flush with heat and a little damp but so easy to count ribs.

Michael ducked his head, ready to mark up the other side of Gavin's throat in the same way, when he froze. Gavin continued to grind against him but also kept his hand pressed against his chest. The exact place where Michael felt the hard skin, rough and nearly scale-like underneath his fingertips. It was impossible to know, to be absolutely sure because he couldn't see, but instinctively he knew. He knew it was a mark, just like his own.

And right beneath-

_ Ba-dum _

Gavin had to hear his breath hitch because he threw his head back against Michael's shoulder and laughed. He felt so alive under his hands, having not even missed a beat and when his eyes found Michael's, they were glinting with mischief.

"How?" Michael breathed, impossible to hear over all the noise and the flashing colors but judging by Gavin's grin, he understood him anyway.

"Do you take me for a man who follows rules?"

There were teeth against his throat and Gavin's laugh right in his ear. The hand not holding Michael's to his chest snaked around to slip into his jeans.

"Are you, Michael Jones?"

* * *

"Finally awake?" Gavin called when Michael emerged from the bedroom.

"Shut the fuck up," he grumbled and joined him in the kitchen. He’d smelled coffee and sure enough, there was a cup waiting for him. He needed it.

"No shame in admitting that I wore you out." Gavin threw him a shit-eating grin. 

"Sorry to disappoint you but I think it was the heavy emotional trauma that knocked me out," Michael gave back and Gavin gasped.

"You are rubbish! And I made you coffee, you don't even deserve it!"

"And still I have it." Michael gave a mock toast with his mug before sitting down on the table. It had to be around noon and while he had slept like the dead, he felt very not-rested. The dream-like feeling from yesterday was back and he had spent the last half hour staring at the mark. Even seeing and touching it didn't make it any more real and the silence in his chest was simply unnerving.

Seeing Gavin out here in this kitchen helped because Gavin had been there. Gavin knew.

Right now Gavin was only wearing boxers and his own mark stood proudly right above his heart. Michael had seen it yesterday, had touched it, and still, realizing that hadn't been a dream filled him with hope.

"My eyes are up here."

"Too bad I'm not interested in your eyes."

Gavin laughed and hopped onto the counter. "Go ahead then. Ask your questions."

"You've been... stabbed?"

Gavin reached for his mark, a slim oval-shaped spot on his chest.

"I was supposed to be stabbed," he corrected him. "Didn't happen in the end. Actually don't even know who was going to kill me, which is quite a shame. I would like to get rid of them."

"You don't know?"

Gavin shook his head. "Totally avoided the whole situation altogether."

Michael frowned but then let it go. Who knew if Gavin was speaking the truth, also it didn't matter. Just knowing that Gavin was wearing the same mark as him helped immensely. He wasn't alone then.

"Is that the secret of the Fakes? You all wear the Reaper's Kiss?" Michael asked and Gavin's eyes went sharp. Having him sitting there in just his underwear, having him grind against him in a clear invitation yesterday - Michael had nearly forgotten who he was.

The Fakes ruled the city and Gavin was one of them. Not only just a member but one of Ramsey's closest. His golden boy who he kept right by his side like he was something to show off. Rumors had it they were fucking each other but Michael had never thought that they could be soulmates. That made an awful lot of sense.

Michael hadn't looked into the Fakes too much. When coming to Los Santos he had sworn to keep his distance from them, didn't want to get into too much trouble but he wasn't fucking dense.

The Golden Boy was Ramsey's frontman, the guy who got into contact with you if the Fakes wanted something. And apparently the guy who infiltrated the bases of their enemies.

Gavin was dangerous, Michael had watched him kill without hesitation yesterday and while he didn't think Gavin meant any harm to him, his loyalties laid clearly with the Fakes and not with Michael.

"I've not met many like us," Gavin said eventually and then even tried on a grin. "Though I do admit it would be quite fun to run with a crew like that. Fast healing from injuries and nothing can kill you besides a reaper. Well, at least as far as we know. Geoff isn’t very keen on letting me try out my theories. He says that if I jumped from the penthouse I would end up as nothing but paste; not even the Reaper’s Kiss would get me back.” He pouted as if he was still hung up on that. ”But no, people who get such a mark and decide against visiting a reaper are rare. Even if there are some out there, most stay hidden. Not every mark is as conveniently placed as my own."

Like Michael's own. Everybody would notice it with one glance and while most people probably wouldn't bother with it, all it took was one asshole who called the police. Michael wasn't supposed to walk this world anymore; the police would track him down to send him to the closest institute to finish him off.

"But you are not the only one who chose to... ignore this," Michael muttered. That's what he had wanted to get to in the first place, not find out secrets of the Fakes. Gavin seemed to realize that as well. His face softened.

"I'm not ignoring this. I'm very aware of the mark," Gavin told him. "But no, I'm not the only one who chose against it."

"Chose against it," Michael spoke the words slowly, having to taste them. "You can't choose not to die."

"Am I dead?"

He wasn't. Gavin was sitting in front of him, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was breathing and moving and his body had been warm above Michael.

Getting up from the table, Michael walked towards him and Gavin let his legs fall open to allow him to step between them. He didn't stop him when Michael touched his mark, instead he pressed his own hand on top of his just like yesterday.

_ Ba-dum _

"You have a heartbeat."

"I'm not dead," Gavin repeated. "Nobody stabbed me on that day."

"But I-" Michael stopped to listen, wishing that the hope in his chest would flicker and pound and push blood through his veins. Nothing. Just silence.

"I don't like doing the things people tell me to do," Gavin said. "They wanted me to die, so I chose to live. What you choose, Michael is completely up to you."

He squeezed his hand before letting go. "Many people had to do the same, and yeah, most decide to go and see a reaper. It's what is expected of them, it's the right thing, the safe choice. What about you? Did you get shot yesterday? Did you die?"

Gavin tugged Michael’s shirt up that wasn't even his own and splayed his hand on his stomach. "Because I believe there are still things out there waiting for you."

He traced the dark letters there, his soulmate mark and Michael had to swallow.

_ "You must be Michael." _

The front door unlocked with a beep. It startled Michael so much that he took a step back from Gavin. Since yesterday he felt strangely unmoored and like he and Gavin were in their own little world. Every reminder that they weren't was a little shock.

The woman who stepped inside, looked around until they found them and then smiled. It wasn't Fiona but someone tall with a red pixie cut.

"Jack!" Gavin called and while that did ring a bell, Michael couldn't quite place her yet. She didn't seem hostile, at least until her smile fell and turned into a deep scowl.

"What did I tell you?"

Michael took another step back and Gavin ducked his head a little.

"No sitting on the countertops! It's unhygienic, least of all in your underwear! What the fuck, Gavin?"

Gavin slipped so quickly from the countertop that he stumbled. "But Jack-"

"No but Jacks! Get dressed, it's noon! Did you even eat yet?"

With slumped shoulders, Gavin shook his head and made his way to the bedrooms. When he walked by Jack, she gave him a smack on the back that made him squawk.

But her smile, her smile was fond and Michael found himself relaxing. "I bet you didn't even offer anything to your new friend here. You act like you were raised by wolves!"

"Yeah, mom!" Gavin called from down the hall and Jack laughed. Her eyes turned to him.

"You must be Michael."

_ Oh. _

His coffee had grown cold but Jack had taken the mug towards the kitchen. Michael was sitting on the couch and if he hadn't been confused before, he was now. One of his hands was still rubbing his stomach where Jack's words had disappeared just a few minutes prior.

Another soulmate. Who met their two soulmates in roughly 24 hours? Apparently him. Granted he had gone his whole life without meeting any of them but this was just overwhelming. On top of all of that was of course the Reaper's Kiss. It was still sitting right on top of his forehead and while Jack had tried to play it off, he had noticed how her eyes had traveled there.

Then there was what Gavin had told him, the choice he could make. He still had a day left but a day wasn't very long.

_ "What about you? Did you get shot yesterday? Did you die?" _

His heart wasn't beating whereas Gavin's was, but he was still here, right? He was thinking, breathing, feeling. The smell of food hit him and he realized he was hungry.

In the small kitchen area, Gavin leaned over the stove. He was dressed now, a hoodie and shorts. Jack was checking on the eggs he was making while waiting for the coffee maker.

All in all, it looked horribly domestic and something tugged on Michael's heart. They looked like a family.

"There you go." Jack placed the coffee in front of him. She was holding her mug with two hands as she sat down opposite of him. "Now Michael, what were you doing at Russo's base?"

"Getting my shit beat in," Michael told her and Jack chuckled.

"Fine. Now I don't think that was your goal on a sunny morning in Los Santos."

"Jack wants to know with what crews you run in!"

"Thanks, Gavin. Don't let our breakfast burn."

Michael huffed. "I run with whoever pays me. I can provide explosives if you need me to or be a muscle for hire.”

"And he's got some nice muscles," Gavin called from the kitchen, making Jack sigh.

"So you chose the wrong crew this time."

Michael shrugged. "I ran a job for Anya. Intimidate some assholes to get off her curb. Didn't really know who that Russo guy was."

"Always know your enemies," Jack muttered. "Anya has some turf by the docks, right? She used you, knowing you were expendable. We can take care of her."

"You don't have t-"

"You are mine and Gavin's soulmate," Jack reminded him. "We take care of our own."

"Jack!", Gavin squeaked and when Michael looked up there was a worrisome amount of smoke coming from the stove. Jack sighed heavily as she got up.

"Even if some of our own are idiots. Excuse me."

Michael watched as she took the pan from Gavin's hands and got that feeling again. 

Family.

Something foreign that he had left behind so long ago and suddenly he was yearning for it. Coming to Los Santos, he had always been a stranger, someone who didn't yet fit in here. And it had been lonely, there was no reason to deny that because it was the truth. Sitting in his little shitty apartment had been disheartening. Fuck, his whole place had the size of this main room with an adjacent bathroom.

And there was no one standing in the kitchen, making sure he had some food on the table.

_ "Did you get shot yesterday?" _

He had, the proof was burned into his skin but- but that was what was supposed to happen. Because the words on his calf and the words on his stomach had disappeared. He was right where he was supposed to be.

He just had to make a choice.

"Sorry," Jack said when she made her way back to him. "But if we want to eat anytime soon it's best-"

"I want to live," Michael blurted out. He was on his feet and didn't know when that had happened. "I'm still alive, I didn't die. I don't want to die yet."

Gavin turned around at the stove to stare at him and Jack stopped in her tracks. She looked surprised but then her mouth pulled into a satisfied smile.

"I was hoping you would say that, Michael." She took his arm and pulled. It was so sudden that Michael stumbled into her but that was fine because she made sure to hold him close. There was a kiss pressed to the top of his hair.

"Welcome home."

_ Ba-dum _

  
  



	3. Michael III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm glad you're here," Gavin said. "Welcome to the family."

Chapter 3

Michael III

There was a knock on the door and Michael looked up from his luggage. After their late breakfast with kinda burned eggs, Jack had taken him back to his apartment. It was on the bad side of town and pretty simple. Jack told him to pack up - he didn't protest too much.

He had no attachment to this place and honestly, after everything that had been happening, he didn't want to be alone. Now he was in one of the skyscrapers in the middle of the city that was apparently owned by the Fakes. This new apartment was way bigger than his old one, a better view, all said: wonderful.

It felt like too much all at once and maybe because of that he hadn't yet dared to close the door. He didn't want to lock anyone out.

"Hey," Fiona said and this time he could smile at her. The knee-jerk reaction of fear wasn't there, not since his heart had started to beat again.

"Hey."

"Looks like we're on the same floor. I'm your new neighbor." She pointed down the hall. "If you need like milk and eggs I won't be able to help you, you better ask Jack or Geoff for that."

"Noted."

She grinned and held a bright yellow pouch up. "I brought you some other stuff though."

"I honestly think I got more than enough gifts for today." He made a gesture towards the apartment and she laughed.

"Yeah, I felt so as well." She closed the door behind her as she stepped in. There wasn't much in terms of furniture yet but she pulled one of the kitchen chairs towards her and straddled it. 

"Don't think Geoff does this for everyone. You and I are special because we are Gavin's soulmates and Gavin is his. As long as you stay on Gavin’s good side, Geoff’s happy to provide you with everything you need."

"Sounds like this Geoff likes to pamper him."

"Oh, Gavin is certainly a bit spoiled," Fiona agreed. "Then again there has to be some kind of asset to being the soulmate of the most powerful man of the city."

"I guess."

Fiona let her chin rest on the back of the chair while watching him and Michael didn't avert his eyes. She was testing him. It should fill him with fear but she hadn't harmed Gavin yet and he’d carried the mark far longer than Michael had.

"Your 48 hours will soon be over," Fiona said. "After that you will officially be hunted to be executed by a reaper."

Michael had to swallow. "I know."

"We should prepare for that." She opened the yellow bag and searched inside. "You know what this is?"

Michael stared at the purple, strangely oval-shaped... thing in her hand and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, "A buttplug?"

"A buttpl- No! It's a beauty blender! What the fuck?" She dissolved into breathless giggles as she threw the thing towards Michael, who caught it quite awkwardly. It was a sponge, probably not practical for what he had thought.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Take a chair and come with me."

"I don't have to tell you that your mark is quite awkwardly placed."

The light in the bathroom was harsh and it felt strange to sit here on a kitchen chair. But Fiona was doing the same while she emptied her bag on the counter.

Michael had no clue about makeup but the idea made him excited. He still held the beauty blender in his hands, pressing it as if it was a stress ball.

"Whenever you go outside you have to hide it. Most people don't bother with someone who carries a Reaper's Kiss but you have to worry about those who do. Those who will call the cops on you because they want you gone. Also, stop that, you'll ruin it." She slapped his hand and took the beauty blender from him.

"Even inside this base or anywhere around the Fakes, it would be best to hide it. Most people here also don't know about Gavin's mark and Geoff wants to keep it that way. People can get... irrational when they see someone who's so clearly different from them."

"Understood."

"The inner crew is fine, of course. Matt, Geoff, Jack. Even Trevor and Alfredo. They don't give a shit but take this as a warning."

He nodded and just as the weight of his new situation dared to come back full force, Fiona pressed a cold tube against his cheek.

"Oh shit," she muttered. "I went out to get some shades for you but man, you're whiter than white." She put the makeup tube back down to choose another. "This one might work but I'll get a better one tomorrow. Let's see if I can find a shade that's lighter than porcelain."

"Milk?"

"Milk might be it."

She reached for his forehead and instinct kicked in. He threw himself back hard enough that the chair screeched over the tiles.

Fiona froze and honestly, Michael was as surprised as she.

"Sorry, I-" he muttered but she already shook her head.

"Nah, I get it. I met enough people who reacted the same way. Don't worry. It's called Reaper's Kiss for a reason though. A simple touch won't kill you."

She put some of the foundation onto the back of her hand and waited until Michael settled again. When she reached up to clip his hair back and out of his face, everything in him tightened up, ready to jump and run. He managed to push the instinct down but only by grasping his knees tightly.

"You worked as a reaper before?" He wanted to keep her talking if only to have something to focus on.

"Of course. Once you're born a reaper your path is pretty clear." She took hold of his chin to keep him still and Michael had to close his eyes. Thankfully Fiona didn't remark on it.

"As you know, the world got screwy and those meant to die, didn’t. So us reapers began to appear," she continued. "We can sense those who carry the marks; even without seeing it, so heads up. We can even tell how old it is."

The first press of the sponge made Michael jump.

"But normal people can not. They get fooled by makeup or tattoos or clothes, anything that's covering your mark. It will make your life much easier."

"Okay," he whispered to not disturb her hand. The soft movements helped calm him down and after a while, he dared to open his eyes again.

She was grinning at him and nodded towards the mirror.

"Look at what I'm doing so you can do it yourself."

"Yeah."

She gave him a moment to catch his breath before she continued, "Working in an institute is not as bad, you know? Most people coming in are quite happy about their mark and for them, they’re doing the right thing. But there are some people like you, who refuse what happened. Not blaming you or anything! I don't know what I would do if I was in your situation."

"So that's why you joined this crew?"

"I mean, I didn't like that part of the job. Having someone get dragged in kicking and screaming or begging for their life? That's pretty heavy." Her hand paused over his forehead. "One day I was called by the police. Something usually reserved for the older reapers but it was kind of an emergency. There are some marked who are too dangerous to go through the whole process and it's best to execute them on the spot. And the police had just happened to catch the Golden Boy."

Michael's eyes darted from his mirror image to her but Fiona was smiling.

"And instead of killing him, I followed him."

There was more to that story, things that Fiona wasn't telling him but that was only fair. Michael wasn't one to push.

"Talk about a change in careers."

Fiona threw her head back and laughed. "Let me tell you, one is definitely more fun than the other."

"I bet."

They grinned at each other and finally Fiona put down her not-buttplug.

"Well then, you fine with this look for now?"

His mark was gone and he hadn't realized until now how much that meant. It was like a weight had lifted from him and he knew that he had avoided looking at himself since it had happened. He had to force himself to check on any reflective surface and even though he had known what he would see, it had always been a shock. A steady reminder that he should've died in that shitty office.

That was gone now. Not for real, he knew that and he got up to lean closer to the mirror. Fiona had done a good job with... pounding his forehead with the sponge but she had been right, it wasn't the right color. He could see where the makeup ended no matter how much she had tried to blend it with his real skin.

But it was heaps better than before and if Michael could barely tell under the harsh light in this bathroom, no stranger passing him by on the street would notice.

It was such a relief that he had to laugh and he could see Fiona's reflection grin at him.

"Thank you, Fiona."

* * *

"You ever fired a gun?"

"Of course."

"You killed someone before?"

It was too early for such a heavy topic, especially when Michael was still in his pajamas. Fuck, he hadn't expected any visitors at 8 am, alright? And when he had opened his door, least of all he had expected Gavin to stand there, all dressed up and just firing questions like that.

"Fuck, I have. Why do you want to know?"

Gavin's grin only grew. He had a new pair of sunglasses and pushed them into his hair.

"That's perfect. Geoff insists that I take some kind of backup with me when I'm closing a deal. Are you up for it?"

Michael blinked at him before groaning. It was too early for this shit. Then again he couldn't really deny Gavin after everything he'd done for him.

"What does that entail?"

"Nothing much. Stand behind me and look pissed off. Should be easy enough."

Gavin squeezed past him and let his hand trail over his chest. "Might want to change into something more intimidating than that, boi."

So Michael got dressed in his most intimidating jeans, which he figured was a black one and a shirt. He had a leather jacket which would probably kill him in this heat but it looked badass. They all had to bring some form of sacrifice.

His makeup was another problem. Fine, Fiona had shown him how to do it but that had looked so fucking easy and maybe he hadn't paid as much attention as he should've.

Standing in front of the mirror by himself with the bag she had left him was something completely different. Especially when Gavin lingered in the background like Michael couldn't fucking see his reflection before finally offering his help.

"That's not how Fiona did it," Michael told him when Gavin pushed him onto the couch just to straddle him a second later.

"I would hope so." But he did hesitate, holding the stupid beauty blender up with wide eyes. "I can stand up?"

That was a kind offer but it wasn't like he was uncomfortable or anything. Quite the opposite, he was warm on top of him.

"I didn't say that."

"Glad to hear that. Hold still now, luv." Gavin leaned ahead, close enough that Michael could feel his breath on his skin. His brushes were as soft as Fiona's and while he was this concentrated, the tip of his tongue poked out. It looked kinda stupid.

Michael laid his hands on Gavin's hip and watched as his smile turned into a full blown grin. "Don't get carried away, Michael."

"I'm not. I'm just being nice and steadying you."

Gavin's hand stopped for a moment while he contemplated his next move before shaking his head softly.

"Geoff comes back today and he will be happy when this deal is through."

Michael's heart sank a little as he heard that. Geoff Ramsey was an intimidating man and while he had known he would meet him eventually, it left him uneasy.

"Where was he?"

"Out of town because of business," Gavin told him as he resumed his work. "He better get me a damn good present when he comes back. He was gone for three whole days."

"Is he mad at you for killing Russo?"

"Nah, I explained to him what had happened. Wasn't like I had much of a choice, did I?" Gavin sat back and tilted Michael's face this way and that. "Russo was an asshole anyway. We would've gotten rid of him eventually, this thing just sped things up. Should I also do eye shadow?"

Michael pinched his tights to get him to stand. "That's enough for now. Shouldn't we get going?"

"You're no fun."

Gavin had asked him if he'd ever shot a gun. Michael had agreed because you didn't make it far without a pistol in Los Santos. However, Gavin hadn't mentioned the assault rifle he pulled from the trunk of his car like it was nothing.

"Just to make you look intimidating, luv," Gavin assured him as he pushed the huge weapon in his hands. "There will be no need to use it. It's just a deal and if I do my job right, we'll be out in thirty minutes."

"What if you screw up?" Michael hissed. They were outside the city bounds, somewhere on a street that led straight into the desert. There wasn't much around but abandoned farms and sad fields. The fucking barn Gavin had brought him to didn't look like much but two armed guards were standing next to the huge doors.

"I won't." Gavin winked at him like that would make all his concerns vanish. It didn't.

He followed him as he marched towards the barn, hips swinging and humming under his breath. Michael knew he should pay attention to their surroundings but how could he when Gavin had pushed his pistol into the back of jeans? Not only that, the thing was gold and reflected the sun, blinding everyone. Also-  _ Also  _ Gavin's jeans were so tight that Michael couldn't help but stare at the gun because he was sure in the next few steps it would just slip out and probably misfire. 

Try to explain that.

Only when Gavin stopped and began to talk, Michael could bring himself to lift his gaze. Considering how one of the guards inside was looking at him, they had noticed that he had just stared at Gavin's ass.

Fantastic.

The deal went fine and took less than half an hour. Good because even if the old barn saved them from the worst of the sun it was hot and dusty in there. Michael had to keep in a sneeze the whole time and had to let it go the moment they sat back in the car.

"Gesundheit," Gavin said absentmindedly. He picked up his bag from the legroom, a different one from yesterday, and giggled.

"Look, Jack packed one for you too!"

He pulled out a water bottle to hand him. It had a small note on it.

_ "Have fun on your first mission! Don't let Gavin annoy you too much! - Jack" _

Michael couldn't help but smile and pinned the note onto his dashboard. "Is she always like that?"

"You're her soulmate so she basically adopted you now. No way out of that." He pulled a face at his own note. "Yours is lovelier. That's not fair."

_ "Don't give Michael a hard time, I will know! - Jack" _

Those were nice, they were just stupid little notes but they felt good.

"Let's get back." Gavin glanced at his phone and grinned. "Geoff already made it home!"

There was no time to wash up and Michael really wished there would be. He felt icky and sweaty after being out in the desert, like all the sand in the world was somehow clinging to him. Also, as stupid as it sounded but he wanted to check on his makeup before meeting the most powerful man in the city. It felt like he had sweat it right off.

Gavin was having none of it. He grasped Michael's hand and pulled him into the elevator without pausing for a second. They drove up to the penthouse and Michael couldn't help but fidget next to him.

"Should I... like, know anything before meeting Ramsey?" he asked but Gavin was just grinning.

"Nah, it's just Geoff, isn't it?"

Which was a horribly unhelpful answer.

The door slid open and there they were. The penthouse was wide and open and natural light filtered in. It was bright, the white couches only disturbed by an army of pillows and fluffy blankets. The TV, God above, that was the biggest TV Michael had ever seen. Beneath it was every imaginable gaming console.

Everything was clean cut and straight lines until he turned around. In the corner, next to a door leading out to a roof terrace, were books. So many books on so many shelves that it looked like a small library. There was even this globe thing that one could store stuff in and a childish part of Michael wanted to go over and spin it.

"Geoff!" Gavin called out.

Geoff Ramsey himself was standing in the kitchen area, cutting some kind of meat, and promptly frowned. 

"Knife!" was his answer but Gavin didn't listen. He had crossed the penthouse in a heartbeat and flung himself at Geoff. Apparently, that was a common occurrence because Geoff masterfully moved his knife out of the way before Gavin could impale himself on it.

"Will you ever learn?" he asked and then pulled the golden gun out of Gavin's waistband. At this point, it was barely holding on. Putting both of those deadly weapons onto the counter he finally wrapped his arms around Gavin.

"Good to see you as well, buddy." He pressed a kiss to the top of Gavin's head and then his eyes found Michael. It was like pure electricity and instantly Michael stood straight.

"Why don't you introduce us, Gavvers?"

Michael swallowed before stepping closer. Gavin was still hanging from the kingpin like a monkey and it didn't look like that was about to change soon. It felt quite awkward to extend his hand like that but well-

"I'm Michael, Sir."

Geoff laughed and promptly pulled Gavin from him in the same breath. "Cut the Sir. Gavin has been texting me constantly since you two met."

His eyes darted up to Michael's forehead but he didn't mention his mark. Instead, he shook his head and then nodded towards the seating area. "Stay for lunch. It's done soon."

Gavin threw himself onto the couch like it was his home and instantly pulled a hot pink blanket over his shoulder. Michael sat down beside him and felt a little bad for leaving Geoff to do all the work. Then again he had no idea how to cook.

"That went better than when I introduced him to Fiona," Gavin babbled as he poked at the wrapped gift strategically placed on the table. "Is this for me?"

"Well, Michael didn't try to kill you," Geoff called from the kitchen.

"Quite the opposite, Gavin nearly left me to die."

"Hey, I didn't know you were my soulmate, alright?" Gavin protested and pulled the gift into his lap. "I'm going to open this now."

"It's for both you and Fiona," Geoff said. "Sorry Michael, I got nothing for you on such short notice."

"Oh, I- that's fine. I mean, you were fine with me staying here so..." Or rather Jack had been. What if Geoff actually had no idea about everything that's been going on? Before Michael could start to panic, Geoff nodded to himself.

"I guess so. Though a housewarming gift is in order." He turned his attention back to his pan and put the chicken strips in. It sizzled and spat. "I'll get you a plant."

"A pl- okay."

Next to him, Gavin began to rip into the gift like a wild dog. It made pieces of golden wrapping paper fly until he pulled the clothing out. It looked like a cropped jacket but the fabric seemed weird. It was of a light gray and seemed somehow metallic.

Then Gavin screeched and pulled it on. "Is this one of the super reflective ones? Michael, take a picture, I want to see it!"

"When I said it was for you and Fiona I meant the both of you should unpack it together." Unfortunately, Geoff's protest didn't reach Gavin, who, although he had asked Michael, had already pulled his own phone out.

He took a selfie, flash, and everything and promptly shoved it into Michael's face. "Look, it's even iridescent!"

Indeed, in the photo, Gavin's new jacket was glowing brightly in rainbow colors.

"Geoff you shouldn't have!" Gavin was on his feet and in the kitchen in a heartbeat.

"Then I won't get you something next time."

Even to Michael's ears, those words sounded empty and Gavin just chuckled and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"Fiona will love hers as well. I just know it!"

"Good. Set the table, will you?"

"Okay." Gavin began to take plates out of the cabinets and Michael stood. He should help but he also had no idea where anything was and so he just awkwardly lingered there.

"Gavin took you on your first job today," Geoff addressed him as he put out the stove. It smelled delicious whatever it was. "Considering he's here you didn't abandon him."

"Oh yeah, it went fine," Michael said. "I didn't do much though."

"You didn't strangle him and let nobody else strangle him, that's all I can hope for." He threw Michael a look and again Michael felt the need to stand taller. Geoff was testing him here.

"The Fakes need more muscles to be honest. We have some we hire regularly and if you won't mind I would like to include you. Considering you are living here you would be able to make it on short notice, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course!"

Geoff's eyes didn't leave him. "You sure you're fine with that? You don't have to."

Michael had to laugh. "Are you kidding? This is the Fake AH Crew, of course, I want to get in!"

"And still you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Listen, no offense but it's been a hell of a week and it's only Thursday."

Geoff laughed. It was a bellowing laugh that radiated from the walls and Michael had to grin.

"I bet it was. Just let me know if you have any second thoughts on this."

"I will."

He wouldn't have, he already knew that. Not only was this his invitation into the most powerful crew of Los Santos, but he was also indebted to them. Not only to Gavin for saving him but also to Geoff for letting him stay here like this was no big deal. He would make sure to repay this debt.

Also, things were different with the Fakes. Michael hadn't been here for long but he could already tell. When was the last time he had been invited to a home cooked meal by one of his bosses? Never, and even if, he would've feared they poisoned the food or something.

With Geoff, that thought hadn't even crossed his mind until now.

"Gav, get Jack, will you? She's in her office."

"Okay!" He was off, down a hallway into the back of the penthouse.

"Michael, help me with the food."

"Yeah sure."

Geoff took the chicken while Michael carried the rice towards the heavy oak table. Only when he sat it down, he realized that Geoff was looming over him and his easy smile was gone. No, right now he looked exactly like Michael had envisioned him - powerful and unrelenting.

"Hurt him and I'll hurt you," Geoff said. "This is my first and only warning about that."

"I don't plan to," Michael brought out. His mouth felt dry and he had to force himself to look Geoff in the eyes. "He's also my soulmate, you know?"

"Then the two of us will have no problems with each other. I'll get us some glasses."

He watched as Geoff headed back to the kitchen and tried to calm his heart down. It only worked when hands settled on his shoulders and squeezed.

"Don't let him get under your skin," Jack whispered to him. "He means well. Being at the top of Los Santos brings a lot of responsibilities."

Michael nodded and Jack leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his hair.

Usually, Michael wouldn't let that pass. He wasn't here to receive kisses and pats because it made him vulnerable. Just the idea that someone could see that made him shiver. But Jack... Jack did it in a way that didn't feel mocking or false.

She meant it.

"Smells good," she called out to Geoff and pushed Michael into one of the seats. "Can you bring me the orange juice while you're in the kitchen?"

"Sure, sure."

What followed was a lunch that Michael would willingly describe as domestic. Stupidly so.

There was such a rhythm of passing down food and clinking of glasses and easy conversation. He didn't doubt that the three of them did sit together for a meal regularly and had been for years. Even his presence didn't feel out of place like they usually had guests over and sometimes more than one.

Fiona? Yeah, he could see her sitting right next to Gavin. Or this Matt guy Gavin had mentioned before. Michael hadn't met anyone from the crew yet but he knew that would come. The thought made him nervous but he pushed it aside.

Not right now, not when he was so comfortable here. This was like a family dinner but without the shouting and with more talking about rival crews and how to take them down.

Michael could get used to this.

* * *

"Did you already hear Geoff's shovel talk?" Fiona had to lean over the table so that Michael could hear her over the droning music. They were back in a club, another one this time but by the way the bouncers had made sure they got a booth in the corner, it also belonged to Ramsey.

"Sure did. One of the most terrifying moments of my life."

"Cheers to that!" Their shot glasses were empty but they clinked them together anyway.

"Geoff fucking ripped me a new one. He was so damn angry, but well, I did try to reap Gavin an hour before." One of the flashing lights hit Fiona's jacket and illuminated it in a blinding light. "If Jack hadn't intervened I would've fucking started to cry on the spot."

"Jack does seem to be the calmer of the two," Michael agreed and Fiona just sighed.

"Jack is amazing." She looked wistfully out onto the crowd as she said that. "She's like my mom, just cooler and with a gun."

Michael raised his eyebrows at that but before he could ask, Gavin slammed a tray with new shots down.

"There you go, lads! It's on me tonight!"

"It's on Geoff," Fiona said only to be crushed against his side as he sat down.

"Michael, take another picture of us!"

"Alright, alright." His whole phone was full of pictures of the two of them with their new jackets but that was fine. How could he say no to them when they were giggling like two little children who had shared a secret?

So he took the picture with a flash for their new jackets and both of them were laughing like it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. It was a bit endearing.

"Fiona is fun," Gavin told him. They were outside the penthouse, up on the rooftop terrace, and after the packed club, the air smelled so sweet. They were sitting on the edge, looking down and letting their feet dangle over nothing. Michael snipped some ash from his cigarette and watched it disappear on its way towards the street.

"Yeah, she is."

"No I mean-" Gavin frowned and then touched the place over his ribs. "Like as my soulmate, you know? I got really fortunate with all of mine and she... she is just super fun. Didn't think that when we first met."

"Probably because she wanted to kill you," Michael threw in and Gavin barked out a drunken laugh.

"Yeah! But she- she's so much fun to be around! She's fun and she's bright and she's freedom. I love her very much."

Michael offered him his cigarette and Gavin took it gladly.

"You got lucky with your soulmates, didn't you?"

"Very much so!" He took the cigarette between his lips to touch the back of his right hand. For a second the ember glowed bright red as he took a drag. "That's where Geoff's words were. 'Watch what you're doing!' It's been years but I still remember him saying that to me."

"Sounds like you were about to do something stupid."

"Oh yeah, I nearly ran in front of a car! Geoff pulled me back."

"Why did you run in front of a car?"

Gavin shrugged. He had to squint one eye against the smoke. "Wasn't paying attention, was I? It wasn't a very fast car. We were in a parking lot."

"Sounds like a pretty anticlimactic way to meet the most powerful man in the city."

"Oh, he wasn't even in the business back then. He was just Geoff." Gavin smiled as he said that. With the city lights coming from beneath, he looked quite soft.

"I thought he was so cool and I kinda followed him wherever. I'm surprised he bothered with me, considering that he's over a decade older than me but I can't remember an instance when he was pissed off. Like truly, not how he pretends he sometimes is."

He handed the cigarette back over and Michael finished it. He pressed it against the ledge to extinguish it before flicking it down.

"Geoff was always good to me. He kept me safe and gave me a home when I had nowhere to go even though he had his own hardships. Things I probably had no idea about because he never complained about them. He saw the things that needed to be done and so he did it and if those things were mine then so be it. It's thanks to him that I was somewhere warm and had something to eat."

"Your parents..?"

"They weren't around much," Gavin just said and left it at that. Michael didn't ask further but it was an interesting piece of information he could mull over. This Golden Boy with all his expensive clothes and sunglasses and bags and jewelry knew poverty as well.

"So what will you be Michael?" Gavin asked finally.

"I don't know. Sounds like I have steep competition between your soulmates." When he turned around, Gavin was watching him closely but he was smiling.

"I think you fit in just fine," he said. "I don't give much thought to those marks. I'm not dead just because this mark is there and I don't have to like someone just because their words are written on my skin. I decide my life but considering that you met two of your soulmates in this crew, it does sound like you are right where you belong."

That was a nice thought. Looking over the city from up here, the last few days still felt like a dream, a nightmare, a feverish delirium. Not a week ago the Fakes had been unreachable names on the news and he had scraped by with shitty jobs.

"I think so as well," he found himself saying. It must have sounded as vulnerable as it had felt because Gavin scooted closer until their shoulders were pressed together.

"I'm glad you're here," Gavin said. "Welcome to the family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week we will see what Jeremy is up to!


	4. Jeremy I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good evening, Officer Dooley." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning for offensive language but not by a main character

Chapter 4

Jeremy I

Jeremy was right where he was supposed to be. Considering that it was as a cop in Los Santos it certainly wasn't the first choice for many people. 

Or most people. 

But here he was.

It had always been his plan to become an officer or at least that’s what he told himself. If your dad was a police captain you maybe still had a chance to go another path in your career even if he were pissed about it. You were shit out of luck if your own soulmark ratted you out.

_ "Good evening, Officer Dooley."  _ it said clear as day at the back of his hand.

So he had joined the police academy and had become a police officer. The decision to go to Los Santos had come up last year. Jeremy had picked up two teenagers during a routine stop. Neither of them had a license and both of them were reported missing from their family in Los Santos. Runaway's that had hoped for a better chance somewhere on the east coast.

Honestly, it had been a little impressive that they had made it this far without being caught.

The captain from district 72 in Los Santos had called him that night to thank him.

"Good evening, Officer Dooley." 

Jeremy hadn’t paid attention to what came after, something about how much the parents had bothered them with searching for those brats, because those were the magical words. Jeremy had heard them countless times during his life, a curse for having such a common phrase at the back of his hand but this time the words began to burn and sink into his skin.

Captain Flynt had offered to transfer him in the very same call. He was always ready to welcome new men in his district and well, that was where Jeremy was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

Los Santos would certainly be more interesting than the nest he was working in.

He hadn't anticipated how true that was.

Los Santos was a pisshole of a city. There was no order, no rules, and crime was running rampant. Apparently, that was normal because Captain Flynt didn't bat an eye on it.

"I'm Robert for you," he had greeted Jeremy on his first day. "Rob is fine as well. I'll teach you the ropes, alright?"

The ropes included a list of names and crews which Jeremy was supposed to turn a blind eye on. Valued contacts that helped them in case they needed some information and in return, the police weren't about to put some metal cuffs around their wrists.

One hand washes the other and all that jazz.

Others might call it corruption.

Jeremy had heard stories about Los Santos, things he had thought were rumors but in all honesty, he hadn't actually looked into things. His mark had brought him here, so he was supposed to be here, right?

Los Santos was happy to teach him.

Drug deals were a crime, as long as they weren't involved with any of the names on Jeremy's handy little list. Same for muggings or hold-ups or whatever. So instead of getting rid of actual criminals, of those who disturbed the peace of the city, all Jeremy did was arrest small fishes. Poor kids who just wanted to get some money by selling weed, a drunkard who had walked into a store, demanding cash without even having a weapon.

Meanwhile, there was a crew war going on next door that everyone ignored.

Besides the Fake AH Crew. The police hated them. Sometimes Jeremy wondered if it was only because they weren't paying up or if Rob had told him the truth. He had taken Jeremy aside one day, an arm around his shoulders like they were friends for years. Jeremy had half a mind to shake it off.

"We don't fuck around with the Fakes. They broke into this very station one day. Stole my fucking nameplate and nothing else!"

Which sounded fucking stupid and at first Jeremy hadn't been sure if it was just supposed to be a joke.

"What did they do with it?"

"Posted on social media about it, together with dozens of pictures of my nameplate in different locations! Try to explain that to my superior!"

"They have social media?" Jeremy blurted out.

"Of course! Fucking millennials!"

At home, Jeremy had looked them up and scrolled down until he saw the pictures Rob had talked about. If he laughed his ass off about it, nobody had to know. He wasn't on the clock, so he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

But the Fakes were also fucking dangerous. Their heists were loud and big and efficient. The only one Jeremy had been called to had been over by the time his district arrived.

When he had seen the posts about it on Instagram later that night, it hadn’t been so funny anymore.

They seemed to have an endless array of guns and people who could use them. It was rumored that Ramsey had men all over the city, snipers that had vanished from one side of the continent just to appear here under his payroll to wreak havoc.

Worst of all, since a month or two they had found fun with explosives. All of their big jobs included them even though they didn't seem necessary. What point was there to blow open a safe from a jeweler when the record showed later that it had already been hacked?

Even that dumb hit at a convenience store had some. All they had stolen were snacks, fucking snacks! But that apparently was reason enough to start a fucking firework show on the parking lot and drive off with flares trailing after them like they wanted to be found.

They had posted a picture of their haul later and honestly, it had been kinda impressive. It sure as hell made Jeremy hungry looking at the pile of tootsie rolls.

When he was called to a shootout he was more pissed off than truly concerned. That wasn't a rare occurrence in this city, more like a daily inconvenience and it was way too fucking early for this shit.

Jeremy had just walked into work when everyone else was already moving out to take care of things. A part of him wanted to stay back, sit down in his office, and have a coffee first. The other guys could take care of things and Rob wouldn't mind.

That was a dangerous mindset and he quickly kicked himself for it. Being the soulmate of his boss wasn't helping his popularity in his district and everyone knew that Rob would gladly overlook things for Jeremy that he shouldn't. 

Los Santos was a shithole and none of his coworkers really cared for more than their next paycheck and to get home safely. It was starting to rub off on him.

A little belated he got on his motorcycle and drove towards the shootout.

At least he tried to. Truth be told, Los Santos was a big city and Jeremy hadn't lived here long enough to know every corner or shady alleyway. Usually, his partner would know the way or well, they did have GPS in their cars. The bike was faster to catch up with the others but did not have any form of navigation.

But Jeremy knew the general area where the call came from so what could go wrong?

Apparently, him getting lost.

He couldn't be that far off the bet. He could hear the sirens of the other police cars while he was driving through some narrow streets. If he would just follow that noise he would end up there eventually. Right?

Then how did the noise grow more distant or was he imagining things? There were few people lingering in these corners but he wouldn’t ask them. What kind of cop asked for directions? Fuck!

That's when he more or less stumbled over the car.

It was a really nice car and Jeremy knew a bit about cars. It was a lowrider and it didn't fit this place and not only because of its color. Jeremy was by no means an expert on colors, everyone who knew him could vouch for that but hot pink and baby blue? Really?

As he drove by, he was pretty sure the seats had leopard print because of course they had.

Oh, and also Geoff Ramsey was sitting inside.

Jeremy nearly fell from his bike when he realized that. Geoff Ramsey, the kingpin of the Fakes was sitting here in his supercar and Jeremy had just driven past him like it was nothing. Had Ramsey noticed him?

He didn't think so but he still took the next corner to disappear from his line of sight. Stopping his bike, he reached for his radio but then hesitated.

The distant shots were still echoing in between the valleys of the nearby buildings. A fight between two crews, right? That's what they had told him but nobody had mentioned that the Fakes were involved.

Was Ramsey overlooking this shoutout?

Jeremy hadn't seen anyone else in the car but had also just caught a glance inside. If Ramsey was alone, maybe... maybe Jeremy could arrest him? He could at least do something.

His hand slipped from his radio. Honestly, if he were to phone this in he was pretty sure that Rob would advise him to fall back, to not bother with it. And probably not because of the danger. Fuck, Ramsey was just one guy Jeremy was pretty confident he could take him.

Rob would hold him back because the Fakes were powerful and while Jeremy was pretty sure they didn't pay the police in the same way other crews did, they surely had some pretty important friends in the city.

Well fuck, Jeremy was tired of this whole spiel.

He got off his bike and sneaked back towards the corner.

The car was still there, of course, he hadn't heard any motor starting. Sure enough inside was Geoff Ramsey, not looking out of the window or anything. He was checking on the seat next to him.

A laptop sat there and while Jeremy was too far away to make out details, he was pretty sure it was displaying security footage. Ramsey was also talking on his phone but the conversation seemed to come to an end.

Nobody else was in the car and Jeremy could see none of his crew around. It was the perfect chance.

Pulling the gun out of his holster, Jeremy sneaked closer.

Ramsey opened the door of his car and got out, grumbling. He was rummaging through something and finally pulled out a bulletproof vest.

Oh hell no.

"Hands up!" Jeremy bellowed and Ramsey actually jumped.

"God fucking dammit!" He spun around to face Jeremy, a hand pressed against his chest. "Give a man a warning? Are you fucking kidding me? You can't jump out on someone like that!"

For whatever reason, the word sorry was on Jeremy's tongue but he managed to keep it inside.

"You have more problems than that, Ramsey."

"Geez, kid. Lighten up a bit, will you?" He leaned heavily against his car to catch his breath but Jeremy wasn't stupid, he noticed how closely Ramsey was watching him. "What are you even doing here? The party is further west. Did you get fucking lost?"

Jeremy hoped his face didn't heat up as much as it felt like. "I saw you come here!"

"Bullshit! I'm sitting here for like three hours!"

Fuck.

"Shit, you really got lost, didn't you?" Ramsey went on and then fucking pointed ahead. "Go down there and take the second corner. You'll get back to the main road and if you-"

"I'm not asking for fucking directions," Jeremy sputtered. "I told you to get your hands where I can see them!"

"Listen, Officer-" Ramsey leaned closer, apparently unbothered by the gun still aimed at him, "Officer Dooley. You must be new here. District 72, right?"

Jeremy's hand darted up to his badge before he could stop himself.

"That means you're under that asshole Rob," Ramsey went on like they were having a civil conversation. "I'm sure Rob doesn't want his men to fight battles they can't win."

"You’re just not on his fucking list," Jeremy growled.

"Because the Fakes are on the list of people that make Rob shit his pants," Ramsey told him. He shrugged off the jacket of his suit and Jeremy held his gun tighter.

"Will you hold still or I will shoot!"

Ramsey just sighed and pulled the bulletproof vest on. "No offense but-"

"Hands where I can see them, Ramsey!" Jeremy bellowed.

"I have places to be and I would prefer it-"

Jeremy stepped forward and tore the vest from him. Ramsey let him and finally held his hands high. The phone and something else was still in there.

"Dooley, don't make me-"

"Give me that!" He didn't wait for Ramsey to comply, just took both things. The phone might be useful and the second item was a small earpiece. Interesting.

"They already know you're here," Ramsey told him, and now with his hands empty, he let them drop to his side again. "If you run now you might get away."

"Shut the fuck up, you didn't contact shit."

"Didn't have to. Their eyes are everywhere."

What was that supposed to mean? Cameras? Jeremy didn't dare to take his eyes off of Ramsey long enough to check his surroundings but why would there be some in these small alleys where there was nothing but dumpsters?

Noises were coming from his hand. At first, he figured it was the phone but the display remained dark. The earpiece, of course, the Fakes had to be still in contact.

Jeremy slipped it in now and was instantly bombarded with noises.

"I'm on my way!"

"I got Golden Boy's position covered."

"Well congrats, I just sniped that asshole like a pro! Clean shot and everything!"

It was a cacophony of sounds and laughter and if Jeremy didn't hear the gunfire in the background he could pretend it was a party of some kind. Well, at least someone was having fun.

Then a voice was cutting through all that.

"Fakes, go dark!"

"Matt-"

"We have someone listening in!"

Instantly everything went silent and as much as Jeremy listened, he could only hear his own breathing. Fuck, how had they known? There had to be some cameras here but when Jeremy threw a glance to both sides, he couldn't see any of them. There was only Ramsey, his head tilted to the side as if Jeremy was quite a curious thing to examine.

So if that hadn't been a lie, then maybe some of them were really on the way here and Jeremy's mind began to race. He was screwed and he had no idea how to pull himself out of this affair. Maybe confronting the kingpin of the local bad guys on his own hadn't been his brightest idea.

"I took your boss hostage," he blurted out.

"Now I wouldn't call this a hostage situation," Ramsey protested. "Also you have to push the button or the others won't hear you. Just a tip."

Jeremy flushed bright red and reached up but now he wasn't sure what to say anymore. He didn't want to piss them off any more.

And then, when he was sure his day couldn't get any shittier, the voice from before came back, "Lower your gun, Officer Dooley."

Jeremy opened his mouth but nothing came out. He must have stared at Ramsey like a fish by the way he looked at him. When he could finally bring his finger down to push the button, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

Whoever was on the other side gasped and that was the only noise for a long moment. Jeremy stood there, still pushing that damn button down as he felt the words on his lower back disappear.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuc-

"Are you fucking serious?" a girl asked in his ear. "Are you fucking- Matt, are you kidding me?"

"Shut up, Nova."

"Your mysterious soulmate is a cop-"

"Nova, I'm fucking muting you in-"

"Oh my God, that's insane! That's so fucking funny! Hey Mickey, isn't that insane?"

Jeremy didn't know who Mickey was but Mickey did push down the button long enough for them to hear him losing his shit.

"Use codenames! We're a professional criminal organisa-"

"Whatever Matt, you're not my mom!"

"Fiona, I'm really going to mute you in a second if you don't-"

"Hey Officer Soulmate, what's your name?"

"Officer Dreamy," someone giggled, maybe this Mickey guy.

"Kids, don't be mean now," a woman chided. "Matt? Honey? I'm super happy for you! But does he still hold Geoff at gunpoint?"

Oh fuck, right! Jeremy's eyes darted back to Ramsey but the man hadn't moved. His eyebrows had disappeared somewhere in his hairline though and when he noticed that he had Jeremy's attention again, he asked, "What's going on? I can hear them laugh, did something funny happen?"

"I-" Jeremy began but he had no idea what to tell him.

"Okay, that's it," his soulmate, Matt, said. "I'm muting all of you now."

"But Matt-"

"I told you to go dark!"

"You can not expect us to be quiet when-"

The sentence cut out before it was finished and what followed was a very awkward silence. Jeremy was aware that Matt was still there and the others could probably still listen even if they were muted.

"Um..." Jeremy brought out but then didn't know what else to say.

Matt sighed. His soulmate. He was working for the Fakes and by the sound of it, they were all quite close.

What was he supposed to do?

"Sorry about that," Matt finally said and Jeremy shrugged. The other could see him, right?

"Not your fault, I mean-"

"I would really advise you to lower your gun though."

Right. At this point, he wasn't even truly aiming at Ramsey anymore and it was a surprise that Ramsey hadn't already disarmed him. Shit, Ramsey had no idea what was going on and Jeremy wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Ramsey was a criminal and Jeremy a cop, so he-

Something warm pressed against the back of his head. It was the muzzle of a gun, still warm from use.

"Gun on the ground."

Shit-

"I told you they were already on the way," Ramsey told him. It sounded nearly apologetic.

Jeremy's aim flicked back to him. Like hell he would throw his gun away. Right now it was his only defense.

The person behind him started to walk around him, the muzzle still pressed against his head. Jeremy could feel how his hair got caught on the sight.

The golden mask shimmered in the sunlight as the Golden Boy positioned himself right between Ramsey and Jeremy. He must have run here because he was still trying to catch his breath but his hand didn't shake.

"Put your gun down, Officer Dooley," Matt insisted in his ear. "Even if you shoot him you know he will stand up again. Will you?"

Shit.

Gavin Free wore a Reaper's kiss, Rob had told him about that. A few years ago they had caught him, ready to execute him but somehow Free had weaseled his way out of that. Probably thanks to Ramsey's influence.

He should already be dead but wasn't and now only a Reaper could fix that. Rumor had it that even a bullet to his head wouldn't be able to kill him.

Jeremy shifted his aim to Free's chest. That's where his mark was if he remembered correctly and there was a theory that hitting the mark exactly-

Ramsey stepped up right behind Gavin and laid an arm over his chest. He was shielding him and Jeremy pressed his lips together.

"I assure you that wouldn't work," Ramsey told him. "But I would prefer it if you don’t shoot one of my men."

Goddammit. He was fucked.

Ramsey was now also pulling out a gun and Jeremy let his own sink. He had lost. He should've never stopped his bike.

"Good boy," Ramsey murmured and Jeremy scoffed. Both of them were still aiming at him and Jeremy had no illusion that they had any problem shooting a cop.

"Gavin, let him go," Matt said through the earpiece.

The golden mask tilted a little to the side as if he had to think about that. It was impossible to read his expression-

"We can't just let him go. He's a cop."

"So what? Did he find out anything that the cops don't know? He did shit all."

"Hey," Jeremy protested.

"Matt wants to let him go?" Ramsey asked and then promptly plugged the earpiece out of Gavin's ear. "Why am I left in the dark here. I'm the boss!"

"Well, you gave your earpiece to a cop!"

"I was at gunpoint, Gav! A little more compassion please, I'm still quite shaken." He cleaned the earpiece off on his shirt. He did so while pressing the button because he was an asshole though. Jeremy jumped at the scratchy noise directly in his ear.

"Yo, Matt, what's up with that?"

"Oh!" Free called out and then leaned so close that his golden mask touched Ramsey's beard. "That's Matt's soulmate."

"He's what now?"

Matt sighed, a long drawn out breath that Jeremy instantly agreed with.

"This officer found out shit all. Just let him go."

"He knows what my car looks like."

"Geoff, I swear to God..! If you wanted a stealthy car you shouldn't choose that monstrosity!"

Jeremy's eyes darted to the lowrider with its hot pink and baby blue paint job. He really wasn't one to judge someone else about colors but, "He's right."

Free stepped up to him and while Jeremy couldn't see his smile, the spark in his eyes gave him away. He was loving this.

"Matt got lucky," he said as he leaned down to Jeremy. It was disorientating because Jeremy could see his own reflection in the smooth surface of the mask. "What a cute soulmate he has."

"Are you saying you don't have cute soulmates because I'm telling," Geoff called from behind.

"No way, I have the cutest soulmates." Free winked at Jeremy and lowered his voice, "Have to say that or I'll unleash hell on earth back home."

In a heartbeat Free had snatched his gun out of his hand and Jeremy could do nothing more than furrow his brows. This was what a mouse must feel like when they were caught by some playful cats. By the looks of it, his only hope was a guy he had never even seen too.

"So what now, Matt?" Ramsey asked. "Should we bring him home?"

Jeremy's mouth went dry. He knew there was a possibility that he wouldn't leave this alleyway, but he hadn't thought about the Fakes kidnapping him.

Fuck, as far as he knew they never had before. The Fakes didn't deal with cops, they just left them with a hole in their head and continued their merry way. Then again, he was special now. Lucky him.

The Golden Boy was now behind him, grasping his shoulders. Jeremy tried his hardest not to jump."Oh, I'm sure we could have some fun!" Almost became unintelligible as Matt spluttered a response to Geoff simultaneously.

"I'm not letting a cop into our base! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Well, you're no fun."

"Just let him go. Come on, Geoff."

Geoff sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Fine. Gavin, you heard him."

"Actually I did not."

"Right, my bad. Matt wants to let him go."

"Lucky you," Free whispered to Jeremy. "Geoff can't say no if you ask him nicely."

"Lucky me," Jeremy mumbled.

Free stopped in front of him and held his gun out. The magazine was missing. "Wouldn't want your boss to ask annoying questions if you came back without your gun, would we? No one needs to know about our little chat."

"Fine." He reached for the gun but Free pulled it back in the last second because he was an asshole.

"Trade it for Geoff's phone."

Right, he still had that. Jeremy looked down at it and could only imagine how much evidence was on there. Rob would flip his shit if Jeremy came back with it.

But it wasn't worth his life.

So he held it out and as promised Free gave him back his gun. Jeremy did have some spare ammo in his pocket but he threw the idea of quickly reloading away. Both of them had a gun on him.

"Keep the earpiece," Ramsey told him as he pulled his own out. "We won't even listen to you two. Tell Matt we'll be home in a few."

Jeremy stared at him and for the first time, he realized that the distant gunshots had stopped. Whatever fight had happened it was over.

"You should run now," the Golden Boy told him. "Or you sit down in the car and come with us. The invitation still stands."

"Fuck no."

Free laughed. He even lifted his golden mask to grin at him. "Have a good day then, Officer Dooley."

Jeremy took a few steps back but didn't dare to leave the two of them out of his sight. If he'd turn his back to them they might still decide to shoot him down. Only when he hit a wall, was he forced to spin around.

He ran then, hoping that he was faster than any bullet that didn't come. Still, he only relaxed when he turned a corner and was sure to be out of the direct line of fire.

Behind him the car came to life and Jeremy could hear them drive off but he didn't turn to make sure that they were gone. No, he kept his eyes on his bike and if he had done so the first time, he wouldn't even be in this fucked up situation.

After all the talking the silence felt strangely lonely and it wasn't until he finally reached his bike that he realized the earpiece was still there. On the other end of it was still Matt, his soulmate. He couldn't hear him right now but he was still very aware of his presence.

Fuck, his first soulmate was a cop, and his second a known criminal? What kind of young adult novel shit was this? Well, he had already made his choice, hadn't he?

Ripping the earpiece out, he carelessly threw it on the street and drove off.

The plan had been to arrive at the district calm and collected. The drive back should give him enough time to get his shit together and think of a reason for where he had been.

None of that worked out.

When Jeremy parked his bike he was still shaking and more than once he reached up to check if the earpiece was really gone. He still had the feeling that Matt was with him, listening in and watching. Thinking about it, that might actually be the case. He had somehow watched them in that damn alley.

Jeremy threw a glance up to the nearby cameras and then shook himself. Fantastic idea, Dooley! Get paranoid right away!

Surely the Fakes couldn't hack into the police system. That had to be super secure, right? Their funds had to go somewhere because it certainly wasn't into the building itself. Fuck, they only had one damn fax machine!

Also, the coffee maker was shit but Jeremy still headed straight towards it and got himself the biggest mug. The rest of the office was a busy buzz, people on the phone or at their work stations. Nobody approached him and it would be interesting to know why that was. Either nobody had noticed that he'd been missing, which was not likely, but possible; or they didn't bother because he was the soulmate of their boss and Rob was a bit protective over him. Nobody wanted to get in a fight with him if it meant also having a pissed off Rob.

That usually didn't sit right with Jeremy but today he welcomed it.

With his mug in his hand, his first destination intended was his desk, but honestly, thinking about just sitting there alone, while his nerves did their thing, wasn't what he needed. So he stepped towards Rob's office instead.

He was his soulmate, so it should be natural to go to him.

The door was open but Jeremy knocked anyway because he wasn't raised by wolves. Rob looked stressed but smiled when he noticed him.

"Jay, come in. Close the door, will you?"

So Jeremy did. He put his coffee down on Rob's desk and fell into the chair opposite of him.

"Messy day, isn't it?"

"Fuck yeah it is," Jeremy agreed. Messy didn't even begin to describe it.

"A coffee doesn't even begin to help but it's a good start," Rob told him before making sure the door was closed. Then he opened a drawer from his desk and pulled out a flask, which  _ okay. _

"This's better." With a wink, he poured a generous amount into his own mug before offering the flask to Jeremy.

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. His workday had only just begun and he shouldn't drink on the job. It smelled like whiskey, the good kind, and fuck, Rob was his boss. So if his boss did it, was offering it to him, it was probably alright. After this day he fucking deserved it.

"Best idea I heard all day."

"That's what I wanted to hear!" Rob laughed while filling his mug to the brim. After he hid the flask again, he took a big sip like this was nothing. It made Jeremy wonder how often this happened.

"Ramsey is really pissed at Russo by the looks of it. Well, he was."

Hearing Ramsey's name again, Jeremy held his mug tighter. Did Rob know he hadn't been there?

"He’s attacked Russo before, right?"

"Oh yeah! I'm not sure why; Russo's crew is pretty small. Nasty kind, but nothing that should bother Ramsey." Rob leaned back in his seat. "Rumour has it that Russo has been dead for a couple of weeks now. Executed by this new guy, maybe it was a hazing ritual."

"Mogar," Jeremy muttered. "The guy who’s a bit too fond of explosions."

"Exactly him. God knows where Ramsey keeps on finding these maniacs." Rob rolled his eyes and then nearly emptied his entire mug in one go. "So Russo's crew got pissed and threatened Ramsey and he just keeps on stomping them into the ground. I'd be surprised if today was the last time. You think at some point Russo's crew would've learned but that’s criminals for you. There has to be something wrong in their head to choose that side of the law, right?"

He filled his mug back up with the flask in such a casual way that Jeremy's eyebrows shot up.

"I don't know much about the Fakes," Jeremy admitted. Then again, today he had probably gotten a more intimate view of them than anyone else. Their banter had been loud and clear in his ears. "Is it true that the Golden Boy is a glitch?"

"Free!" Rob spat out. "We fucking had him! Fuck, that was such a big mission and we managed to wrench that little faggot from Ramsey's lap! Had him in custody and everything!"

"Then what happened?"

Rob glowered and Jeremy was pretty sure he wouldn't answer or give him an empty reply. While Jeremy had heard the story before nobody seemed to bother with the details. They had caught the Golden Boy and he had weaseled his way out.

"Called in a Reaper to get rid of him. Wanted to toss the body in front of Ramsey's feet. Don't look so shocked, Jay. Ramsey has done way worse."

Jeremy didn't know what expression he wore but the mental picture turned his stomach. Sure, Ramsey was a criminal and had killed a bunch of their officers and he certainly deserved punishment but that... that was cruel.

He couldn't help but think back to the alley and how Ramsey had wrapped an arm around Free's chest to make sure that even if Jeremy fired, it would hit him first.

"Reaper comes in, a young girl. Pretty thing, actually. We let her do her thing but instead of you know, doing her job, she took Free and ran."

"She got him out?" Jeremy blurted out.

"Damn right she did! God knows why!" Rob huffed. "That's why you don't let a woman do a men's job."

Jeremy pressed his lips together and decided against answering. Instead, he took to his coffee and fuck, that whiskey was strong. It burned down his throat but after today it was just right.

"She's running with the Fakes now. Nova."

Fiona, Jeremy thought absentmindedly. That's what Matt had called her. Fuck, he had no idea there was a reaper out there who'd gone rogue!

Ramsey certainly had a way to pick them, didn't he? The outcasts, those who didn't belong in their society. A glitch, a reaper who wasn't reaping. What about the others of his Crew?

He had no idea about this Mogar-guy, he was too new, had just appeared out of nowhere to wreak havoc.

Queen, their getaway driver. A woman that was rarely seen, who like Ramsey himself wasn't out in the fray most of the time.

And of course Matt, his soulmate. The one who had overlooked everything, who had watched every one of his movements.

"Their hacker..." Jeremy said slowly. The skin of his lower back began to itch where Matt's words had been. "What do you know about him?"

"Axial?" Rob huffed into his mug. "We know fuck all. Slippery asshole, don't even know his real name."

Jeremy opened his mouth but then hesitated. There was a decision to be made here, he could give Rob at least Matt's first name and who knew, maybe even more. Maybe they could use this connection to get more information and if the police got Ramsey's hacker into their hands, it would be a big loss for the crew. This would probably pull Ramsey's wrath to him but surely Rob could provide proper protection.

But telling Rob Matt's name would also mean telling him about everything else that had happened.

He still held his mug in his hand and could smell the booze, could feel it linger on his tongue. Rob finished his 'coffee' again and was now rather flushed.

Jeremy closed his mouth.

* * *

"That's insane!" Fiona called. She was the first person to reach Matt's office even if it had been a tough competition. Gavin fell a bit short.

Geoff watched them with a mixture of fondness and dread. Matt's office was stuffed full of expensive equipment and also rather small. At least it was too small for four extra people but that didn't stop him from squeezing in behind the others.

Matt was already expecting them. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was pushing himself so far back into his chair like he wanted to disappear in it. That didn't stop Fiona from grasping his shoulders.

"That's insane!" she called again. "Your soulmate! Matt, congratulations!"

"Stop it."

"He's cute," Gavin threw in. He was squished in between Michael and a cabinet and tried to make it look smooth. "We all like a man in uniform."

"Speak for yourself," Fiona scoffed. "Also I haven't seen him yet. You got the surveillance footage?"

"Nope, I've already deleted that," Matt said promptly and Fiona gasped. Still holding on to his shoulders, she shook him.

"But why? I wanted to see him! That's not fair, Gavin got to see him!"

"Because I knew what you would be like." Matt pushed her hands away. "If you managed to get a picture of him you would try to search him."

"Of course! We have to find him! Dooley was his name, right?"

"Leave it."

"We can't just leave it," Gavin protested. "He's your soulmate!"

"Yeah, but I don't care!" Matt threw a quick look towards Jack and she came to his aid.

"Enough now, kids. Leave Matt alone and give him some room to breathe." She ushered them out of the room, no matter their protests. "Go and clean up. Michael, honey, make sure to get a bandaid for your hand."

"I just skinned it while jumping down-"

"I didn't ask how it happened, I told you what to do."

The chattering was cut off as the door fell shut. Geoff was aware that Matt watched him but when he turned towards him, Matt quickly busied himself at his computer.

"Do you need anything else? I'm still erasing the camera footage, so-"

"Curious that you deleted the footage of our officer first," Geoff remarked. "Figured it would be better to get rid of the shootout."

Matt grunted something that wasn't an answer and didn't even turn around. It grew quiet between them but Geoff knew he just had to wait. This was Matt's space and he didn't like people lingering here and already he could tell that Matt wanted him gone.

That wasn't about to happen, not yet.

Jack slipped into the office again and Matt sighed quietly. She leaned against the back of his chair. "What do you wanna do now? This is a bit messy."

"I'm not gonna do shit," Matt said. "Neither are any of you guys."

"Matt, he's your soulmate."

"I know, Geoff, but I also know that doesn't have to mean shit," Matt pointed out. "He's a cop. Maybe he'll arrest me, figure out my identity, or something like that."

"You're saying he could hack in here?"

Matt fought against it for a moment before he blurted out, "He won't. Nobody can."

Chuckling, Jack pulled the beanie from his head. It left Matt's hair all tousled and she smoothed it down. "That's what I wanted to hear. You keep us safe and we keep you safe. I don't think Officer Dooley is a threat."

"You don't know that though."

Jack hummed, but threw Geoff a glance. There was an amused sparkle in her eyes that Geoff knew too well. She wasn't going to just let that rest.

"So what then?" Geoff asked. "You're just going to ignore this for now?"

"Yes and you will as well." The warning fell flat when Matt was still intently staring at his desktop.

"You could at least look into this Dooley guy, just to be sure."

"Not interested."

"Not even want to know the first name of your soulmate?"

"Nope." Matt popped the p like that would close the conversation. It didn't hide the way he was leaning into Jack's hand.

"But you always say to know your enemies and your friends," Jack reminded him and Matt grunted.

"I have enough stuff to work on. Maybe I'll get to it eventually but it doesn't have a priority right now."

Jack chuckled but let him go. "Alright, alright. Let us know if you change your mind."

"Won't happen."

"Of course." She ruffled his hair once more before grasping Geoff's arm. "We'll leave you to it then."

They left the office and the moment the door fell shut between them, Jack pressed her face against his shoulder. She was pouting.

"Poor Matt. That's his first soulmate, right? So much trouble."

"He'll come around," Geoff told her. "That was just a nasty shock for him. A cop of all people!"

Geoff looked around but they were alone. Wherever the others were, they had listened to Jack and had gone upstairs.

"What do you think then? Is it a bad soulmate? Matt seems to think so. It should be easy to keep Matt away from the cops, but-"

"It's a good one," Jack assured him and when Geoff threw her a glance, she was grinning. "Matt isn't in any danger."

"Can you be sure?"

Jack threw her head back and laughed. "You know I'm right. I was also right with Fiona, wasn't I?" 

She let go of his arm and walked ahead, that smirk still on her face. Geoff knew her long enough to know that this wasn't about to end well.

"Matt said to leave it," he called after her but she just lifted her hand to wave back at him.

Well, he had done all he could to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Jeremy's story begins!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)
> 
> Besides that feel free to scream at me on my Tumblr:  
> https://kahnah23.tumblr.com/


End file.
